


What Happened to Gabriel

by edwick96



Series: Under my skin [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Barebacking, Dom/sub, Fluff and Angst, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Slow Build, Smutt, Soldiers, Suicide Attempt, Teacher-Student Relationship, bottom!gabe, hanzo shimada - Freeform, tags will change as the story does
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-08-10 18:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7857133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edwick96/pseuds/edwick96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Gabriel really hated working for Blackwatch, the seedy, covert operations department of Overwatch, sometimes he wished for something more the gore and blood, something (or someone) to pull him out of the darkness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some disclaimers!!
> 
> McCree is over age.  
> This is not going to be a toxic relationship between the two characters, because there's a big difference between Gabriel and Reaper and I want to explore that, there won't be any abuse.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some disclaimers!!
> 
> McCree is over age.  
> This is not going to be a toxic relationship between the two characters, because there's a big difference between Gabriel and Reaper and I want to explore that, there won't be any abuse BESIDES their first meeting there are issues.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Follow me at goblin-child.tumblr.com for lots of other overwatch stuff and some quality shitposting, and suggestions for future fic.

“I’d love to try to tame you... And I would simply adore it if you turn out untamable –”  
― Simona Panova, Nightmarish Sacrifice

Sometimes Gabriel really hated working for Blackwatch, the seedy, covert operations department of Overwatch. While his colleagues in the Girl Scout group got to rush around the world, fighting omnics and terrorist organisations, being praised by millions for their heroics, he was forced into the shadows, to do the grimy and messy shit, so that overwatch didn’t need to get their hands dirty.

He supposed it was for the best. Gabe never was one for the public eye, preferring to stay out of the media and do his work quietly. But it was the assumption that he would have no qualms in leading this shady side organisation, that he was the tough thug that could get the job done, by whatever means necessary, that bugged him.

It sure seemed hard to remember you where “saving the world” when all you did was kill and maim.

It felt like a waste of his talents, dealing with petty thugs, arms dealers and drug fiends. But when it was time to name Overwatch’s commander, it was pageant queen Jack Morrison that got the job, while he got the boot.

He thought all this, with a nasty scowl on his face, while he was looking at the pitiful creature before him, a scrap of human dirt that the Deadlock Gang, a pitiful arms dealing organisation from New Mexico, had left behind. While the rest of the gang had been incapacitated or fled, this one was left behind for questioning.

Couldn’t have been more than 20, he was tied to a bottomless chair, hands cuffed tightly behind him, his head lolled as blood dripped from his crooked nose.

“Listen cabrón,” Gabe spat, “if you don’t tell us what you know, you’ll end up in a body bag, just like all your criminal buddies, so talk, or it’s lights out.”

Gabe doubted the kid knew anything else than the information they had already collected, he clearly wasn’t that high up the gangs food chain. Probably just a little thrill seeking brat who thought the thug life was going to be a ride, that got in too deep. Gabe almost felt sorry for him. The fact that pounding on someone like this was in his job description made his gut churn.

“I already told you asshole, I don’t know nothin’ about nothin’, and if I did I wouldn’t tell some vigilante piece of shit like you.” His thick southern accent was slightly squeaky and nasal from the busted nose and the blood in his mouth, but it was deep and rich.

Gabe sighed, kicking the chair from under the other man, so that that if fell backwards with him still attached to it.

“You think your tough little man? I’ve broken men three times the size of your scrawny ass.” The other man groaned as his head hit the grimy floor. Gabe sniffed and scowled, staring around the pathetic diner they where in. Even before his crew had cased the joint it was pretty pathetic. “Big Earls” diner was probably the least cool gang hideout he had ever been in. Smeared blood and dirt on every surface, cigarillo ashes sprinkled on the floor like black sand. There was a counter with some rattily upholstered chairs and a broken coffee machine that emitted a gross stench. A dartboard hung on the far wall and a jukebox stood at the centre, now smashed and filled with bullet holes after blackwatch had shot it up. 

Gabe used his booted foot to level the chair back upright. The kid looked disoriented. Could have a concussion. That suited Gabe just fine; maybe he’d be less mouthy.

Gabe moved in really close and grabbed the kid by his greasy mop of hair, tugging back sharply, making him grimace and let out a shout, his jugular, covered in a short, scruffy beard, was exposed. Gabe pulled a knife from his belt.

“Gilipollas I’m getting real tired. When I’m tired I tend to want to end things quick. So I’m going to give you one last chance before I slice your scrawny neck and feed you to the coyotes.”

The other man still looked at him defiantly, a little dazed and exhausted but he wasn’t giving in. His dark brown steely; sharp and brown like the craggy cliffs of the New Mexico desert. Under different circumstances he might have seemed dangerous.

Gabe huffed. All the other men and gangsters they had caught had pretty much melted and given in straight away, giving them little pieces of information, some of it useful, some of it not so much. This one tho, he was different. They’d been here almost an hour and all Gabe had gotten from him where expletives and shouts of pain.

“What’s your name cabron?” Gabe asked, trying a different tactic.

“Go fuck yourself,” the kid spit in Gabe’s face. Reflexively he stabbed the kid in the leg with his knife, making him scream out in pain, “Agh! McCree my names McCree!”

“There we go!” Gabe said gruffly releasing the kids hair and moving back to where he was sitting.

He looked at the other man, haggard and sweaty, covered in blood. His plaid shirt soaked through. He looked a pitiful sight and Gabe did feel pity. He wasn’t a monster. He didn’t enjoy this. Looking at his handiwork made him grimace, whereas his underlings in blackwatch loved their jobs, the violence, the thrill. They weren’t much better than the gangs they came across. Hell most of them had criminal backgrounds. They where sent to him because the only other choice for them was prison or death. Gabe hated them. He hated this. But no one else had the balls to do it so here he was, in a crappy diner late at night, knifing a man out of his mind with pain that probably didn’t have any info anyway.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “McCree I’m going to tell you something and I want you to listen. No one in this whole wide world gives a shit about you right now. I’ve seen enough gangs and thugs to know that there is no code od honour or brotherhood in your pathetic little gang. They would have sold you out for a hand full of pesos and kicked you in the ass for good measure if my men hadn’t gotten them first. 

“I don’t know how you ended up here. You seem like a tough kid. You’re too young for this life. But you’re here now and you’re on your own. Your gang is dead, and those who aren’t will not come back here to bail you out. That ain’t how it works. 

“My men don’t give a shit about you. With a snap of my fingers any one of them would come in here and blow your brains out without hesitation. So you have no one, and no reason to withhold information, because no one gives a shit.”

He looked at the younger man, who had hung his head hangdogedly, “I told you I don’t know nothin’,” McCree’s voice cracked, like he was about to cry. Shit.

Gabe sighed, and moved over to the old countertop. He looked at the coffee machine and winced, he needed to stay awake but at what cost. He moved around looking for some beans, only to find a stale bag of powder, and waited it to filter into the pot. He looked over at McCree, whose head was still hung low. He could have been asleep, or passed out, but Gabe could see his ragged breathing. He was crying.

He thought of the base, of Ana and her daughter, who wasn’t that much younger that McCree. He imagined the young girl running around the base, pestering her mother or asking Torbjörn for piggyback rides.

How did things go so wrong for McCree that he ended up in a gang at his age? It was sad. He should have been applying for college or meeting pretty girls or whatever other stupid shit kids do. But here he was, crying in a diner with a hit man, with a stab wound to the leg and a broken nose.

Gabe grabbed a shitty mug and filled it with coffee. It tasted like dirt. He thought back to his own adolescence, in the military with Morrison, top of their class, though Morrison was always slightly ahead of him. No matter how hard Gabriel tried he could never step out of the other mans shadow, not in the military, not in Overwatch. 

He moved to stand in front of McCree, the kid was sobbing openly now, and Gabe felt that familiar pang of guilt, the one he felt every time the job forced him to take it too far. 

“Look at me McCree,” he sounded stern, but his voice lacked any real bite.

McCree didn’t look up for a few seconds, probably another pitiful act of defiance, but finally gave in, looking Gabe square in the eyes.

“Clearly you don’t know shit about shit.” Gabe couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard a sigh come from the other man, relief maybe? “So that puts me in the annoying situation of figuring out what to do with you. 

McCree tensed again. He probably thought this was the end of the line. That Gabe was going to off him then and there. Gabe let him think that for a few more seconds before proceeding.” I don’t kill for killings sake. You may be a pitiful piece of shit but I don’t play executioner, so the way I see it is you’ve got two options.” He lifted two fingers to demonstrate. “One, you go to prison, and let me tell you kid, you think gang life is tough, prison life is worse. A young thing like you they’d use you as a punching bag, that’s if you’re lucky,” McCree winced at the implication

“Or,” Gabe continued, you join my men and me in Blackwatch. It’s barely a step up from prison. You’ll be treated like shit, you’ll be worked physically so hard that you’ll want to die, you’ll have to toughen the fuck up and not cry in tough situations like this, and let me tell you will be thrown into a lot of shitty situations. But you’ll be fed properly; get a decent place to sleep, and you won’t die. Not by our hand anyway, you seem pretty weak so if we run into omnics or Talon you’ll probably be slaughtered.”

“Why the fuck would I join you? You just fucking stabbed me.” His accent was thick, but he was too haggard to put any real fight into his words.

“Because you don’t have any other options pendejo.” All his men where hesitant to join him at first. 

“What’s the difference between you and a gang? You guys don’t seem to care about killin’ any more than deadlock does.”

“We kill bad guys. We kill to save the good people of this world, we kill for them,” McCree scoffs and Gabe immediately cringes. That was shit. Sighing, he tries a different tactic.

“Look we may look like a bunch of killers and dicks,” Gabe decides to go all in; he’s charming like that, and there’s something about this kid, some kind of spark. He could become something. Someone. “But we do our jobs, and at the end of the day, we know we’ve done something to help people, even if it is just cleaning up after other peoples shit…” 

There was a long pause, McCree was looking at Gabe’s boots, the silence seemed to drift on forever. Gabe shuffled, sighing internally. Maybe he was wrong, maybe the guy was too thick, or too soft for Blackwatch.

“If I do this,” Gabe almost startled at the kid’s slow drawl but immediately composed himself, “I won’t go to prison?”

“No.”

“Swear?”

Gabe groaned and retorted childishly, “Pinkie swear.”

The young man laughed at that and Gabe scowled. Couldn’t make a habit out of that. This kid was clearly an idiot.

“Okay.” McCree said simply,

“Great,” Gabe replied stoney faced. He’d have to take the kid in, file a fuck-tonne of paperwork, sign the kid into the database. No sleep tonight, but hey another young life saved or whatever.

He moved toward McCree, and the younger man flinched as if expecting another stabbing, “Relax, I can’t load you into the truck tied to a chair, I don’t have the patience.”

He moved behind McCree and undid the cuffs around his swollen wrists, noticing some blood and grimacing in distaste. McCree stood up and took some tentative steps on shaky legs, he clearly couldn’t walk with the leg wound. Gabriel grabbed him under one blood-soaked arm and led him out of the diner, leaving it to rot.

His men where still busy cleaning up the mess from outside. The heat of the action happened outside. Gang members where too stupid to use cover. There where a number of body bags, some bodies yet to be processed, some guts or other bodily fluids soaked into the dirt.

“Oh god,” McCree’s face turned green.

Gabe tugged his arm and led him to one of the black vans lined up neatly in the parking lot, “Shut up. They’re dead to you, remember?”

McCree nodded, steely eyed, avoiding looking at his dead comrades.

Gabriel basically threw him into the van, McCree yipping in protest over his bloody leg. “’Okay here’s the deal. My men finish cleaning up, we drive to the airship-“

“Airship?” McCree lifted his head in surprise.

“Shut up,” Gabe said sternly, he supposed the kid was right to be excited, he’d probably never ridden in a vehicle that didn’t have a flat bed covered in chicken shit. “Yes, the airship, that will take us back to base.”

“And where’s that?” McCree asked, Gabe was really starting to get annoyed with the questions. He’s used to his men falling silent before him, or at least showing some respect for their commander.

“Gibraltar,” Gabe said already shutting the door as before any more questions could be lobbed his way.

A lieutenant was jogging over to him as he turned around. “All finished here sir,” he said curtly, saluting.

“Good job. Start loading the men into the vans.”

“Finish breaking in the new steed yet?” asked the soldier.

Gabe scoffed, “Not even close.”

 

Gabe had his own private room on the airship, so he could do business on the go. He was trying to do business at least but a bleach blonde Ken doll was screaming at him through his video com.

“For god sake Gabriel what the hell did you do out there? A hideout full of dead bodies and not a single trace of illegal activity. No guns, no drugs, nothing, it’s like you wanted to shoot these guy’s in cold blood.” Gabe’s chest roared with intensity. He hated it when Morrison presumed to know a god damn thing about him. He didn’t enjoy killing. Hell if he could he’d leave this godforsaken job and go work in a nursing home, but he didn’t have the qualifications, so bloodshed was his calling.

“I told you Morrison the Deadlocks had been ex-communicated by all potential arms sellers. No one wanted to do business with them, they where just a bunch of incompetent hicks and migrants. No one wanted anything to do with them. The only reason they’re all dead is because you sent me up here to take care of them.”

“What are you implying Gabe?” Jack asked all guns blazing.

“Nothing Commander, but it would make my job a lot easier if you did your damn research before I bust my ass chasing false leads. Goodbye Jack.” Morrison was still shouting through the com before Gabe shut it off. They’d be arriving in Gibraltar soon; he’d hear enough bullshit when he got back.

 

When they returned, he barked orders at his men, dismissed them, and told them to show the new recruit around. McCree looked uncertain as they led him off, he had a right to be. The Blackwatch quarters where a hole, not much more than a few rows of shitty cots lined against the walls, a trunk to put your shit in, and a shared toilet.

Gabe left them to that as he waltzed into the watchpoint’s main building, where the “heroes” slept. He was graciously allowed among their ranks when he wasn’t on missions. Had his own room, away from most of the other operatives. Just the way he liked it. 

He was accosted two minutes after entering the communal kitchen area. Angela was still up.

“Gabe!” the perky blonde beamed, “Back from another successful mission! Well done!”

“Uh huh, thanks.” He said moving to the fridge to look for something to eat. All he could see where some bananas and a pot full of stew lovingly prepared by Reinhardt no doubt. He chose a banana. 

“Everyone’s been missing you,” Liar, Gabriel thought, “but it is worth it because you saved some lives today!” Either Mercy was dreadfully misinformed or wilfully ignorant of Gabe’s contributions to Overwatch.

The young woman couldn’t be blamed for his temper. If Gabe were a more patient man he would find the young medical student charming or cute. He wasn’t.

“Anyway, I was just headed off to bed! C’ya!” she basically drifted down a corridor leading to the bedrooms, like an angel on wings.

Gabe moved over from the island kitchen top to a small sitting area, not quite a living room, and flung himself on the couch, groaning as his muscles ached. He began taking off his armour and then his boots before he heard a familiar “eh hem” from the corridor.

“Ana,” he said not even looking up, knowing it was her, and smiling, a site reserved only for his best friend.

“How are you Gabriel?” the woman moved to sit by him, and he let her. She had a calming effect on him. Her warm smile, her dark eyes, full of love but also hard with the strength of a good soldier. The swirl of the tattoo under her eye always intrigued him, and her glossy black hair was always pulled in a light ponytail.

“How bad was it today?” she asked earnestly.

“Shit,” he breathed out, happy to finally let it all out in front of his only friend. “Bunch of losers, small time, off of route sixty six. Scum tried to fight us as we approached but we gunned most of them down. Got the info we needed… Then I stabbed a kid in the leg.” He said like he was telling her about various errands he had ran that day.  
“What?” Ana asked, outrage in her voice, she was the only one who could scare the shit out of Gabe.

“Well not a kid, he was just scrawny.”

“Why did you stab him?” Ana asked incredulously.

“Thought he might know something. I got frustrated.”

“When most people get frustrated they punch a bag, or yell, they don’t stab people.”

“Well I’m not ‘most people’ am I?” He said bitterly. Anyway I gave him ‘the deal’. Didn’t care much for prison so now he’s freeloading in the Blackwatch rooms.”

“One of your strays…” Ana sighed, standing up and motioning for Gabe to shuffle over on the couch so that she could sit next to him. She then pulled him down and laid his head on her legs, like a child seeking comfort from their mother.

“Try to get some sleep. You will have time to stress about your new recruit, and Jack,” she said pointedly, “tomorrow.”

He huffed and let the exhaustion roll off of him. He felt it deep inside his bones, he was wrecked, and it didn’t take long before he was drifting off.

He had a nightmare, not one of his usual ones. He was standing on the bronzed cliffs of New Mexico, sun blaring down on him, filling him with heat. He looked down at the craggy rocks below.

Suddenly the cliff he was standing on started to crumble, and he was falling towards the sharp rocks below.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree learns how blackwatch, and commander Reyes, operates.

McCree woke up to a foghorn, an honest to god foghorn. Not one of those old fashioned ones either, it was a sonic blaster, so not only was McCree sure he had tinnitus now from the high pitched noise, but the sonic wave all but knocked him out of bed. 

“W- the fuck?” he muttered glumly. He doubted he’d get another peaceful sleep for the rest of his days.

The night before his Blackwatch comrades, who ranged from perfectly civil, to smelly and violent, had filled him in on how things worked in the Blackwatch barracks. He needed to be properly washed. He needed to get up really early which he groaned at. By the time his head hit the pillow, aching and scared out of his fucking mind.

He was still sure the Blackwatch leader, he didn’t know his name, he thought one of the others had called him Commander Reyes, was still going to kill him for being deadlock. 

He had been shown one kindness last night. Before they went to bed, one of the nicer Blackwatch agents had given him some omni gel for his leg, which filled him with a warmth that immediately started to heal the scarring. The other member had mentioned most of the other members had sustained one wound or another from Reyes. The thought did nothing to ease his mind.

Now he was faced with a very angry, very opposing figure in the doorway shouting, “Wake up assholes!” It was none other than Reyes himself.

McCree quickly scurried out of his cot in his boxers, skittering across the floor like a fawn. Eventually he managed to get his shit together enough to stand at the end of his bed like all the others, his bed hair was sticking out at every angle.

Commander Reyes flicked on the fluorescent lights, blinding McCree. The whole place was a shithole.

“Ok kiddies, it’s training day! You’ve all gotten fat and lazy and we can’t afford to fall behind. When those Overwatch fairies screw up we have to be ready to pick up their slack! That means we have to train! To focus!” He had been pacing down the room, arms behind his back, looking at each of his agents, who where all standing straight to attention.

He got to McCree, whose hair was wild as he picked at his ear to make sure he wasn’t deaf. Reyes looked at him with confusion, then recognition, then rage. “What the fuck, cabrón why are you not groomed? Where is your gear?” McCree looked around and saw that the other recruits had stacked their daily outfits, armour, combat boots. Probably one of the rules he’d forgotten.

“S-sorry… sir.” He turned to his trunk and pulled out his clothes haphazardly almost throwing them around the room. 

He took his time lining up all his clothes so they looked like all the others before putting his cowboy hat on top. He managed to grab it before he was shanghaied yesterday.

He turned to see Reyes looming over him like a grim reaper, eyes fill with fury, the scar over his nose seemed to pulsate angrily at him. “You done?” he said, his tone calm, mouth curled in a sarcastic sneer.

“Yes sir.” McrCree said, trying not to keel at the other mans glare. He was pretty sure he’d done a good job, but he saw Reyes looking over his shoulder.

“What the fuck is that?” he said, nostrils flaring. McCree turned around following Reyes’ gaze, before his stomach started to churn. Oh no.

“S’my hat… sir.” Reyes looked at him like he was an alien who’d just shit on his shoes. Jesse noticed he wasn’t that much shorter than him. Then he wondered why he bothered to notice that at all. 

“You can’t wear that in training,” Reyes had said, crushing McCree’s little heart.

Reyes stomped back the way he came. “I want you all on the training field in 30 minutes, if you’re late, you have to do 10 extra circuits. C’mon people move out.” He said stomping down the hallway.

McCree let out a sigh of relief, feeling like he’d just survived a hurricane. 

He ate a questionable meal of oats and fruit, dressed up in the oddly heavy armour he was given, before moved to the back of the watchpoint where the training ground for Blackwatch was. He passed some colourful characters on his way passed, a short, dwarf like man with a bushy beard and a metal claw covering one arm, and a man twice his size, in armour that looked heavier than an elephant. A younger woman was buzzing around them, yelling things in a British accent. He looked away quickly when they caught him staring.

He ran to catch up with the others, huffing, before losing his breathe entirely looking at the Blackwatch training circuit.

Reyes was waiting for them before the massive obstacle course that threatened to bleed McCree dry. 

Reyes’ stood straight, shoulders stretching broad under his armour. McCree would have let out a wolf whistle if it where someone else, someone he didn’t hate. Someone he was pretty sure wouldn’t hesitate to stab him again if he did.

Reyes really was gorgeous. He was tall, and broad, his dark skin, glowing in the early Gibraltar sun. He had a really distinct set of features. He had an impressive jaw, covered in a neat beard, a prominent, round nose, covered diagonally by a scar, and dark, catlike eyes that seemed to cut right into you. He topped it all off with a black beanie.

Jesse always did have a thing for the dangerous authority types; his dick always got him into trouble more than not. The effect was heavily dampened though as he remembered the man had stabbed him, and had the personality of a bitter cup of dirt coffee from Big Earls.

“Ok,” Reyes yelled over the chatter of agents. His voice had a husky tone; there was a hint of a Spanish accent in there. It was hot.

“This is how it’s gonna go down. There are 40 of you; there are four training exercises. You will split into 4 groups, and you will be given ten minutes to do each exercise. If you fail, your whole group has to re-do the exercise. You are only as strong as your weakest teammate. The weakest teammates are never voted most popular so you better get your asses through these exercises as quickly as you can. The whole thing will take forty minutes; you get five minutes to throw up before we go again. Got it?” Reyes finished.

“Got it,” the agents shouted with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

“All right move out, que las piezas de los bajos fondos de mierda!”

McCree found out a lot of things that day. 

He found out being in a gang member hadn’t improved his physical health at all. He still had a bit of a paunchy stomach that dragged him down, and his team. The cycles included a ropes course, a climbing wall, camo crawling in mud (which stuck to him all day, and some sparring mats (where McCree got his ass handed him for ten minutes straight). 

He almost always missed the 10-minute window for each exercise, meaning he and his team had to do each of the exercises over and over and over again. When they got to the sparring matts, his team mates attacks started getting more and more vicious, their attacks less controlled. He felt like the wimpy kid on the playground and they where after his lunch money, except he didn’t have any. 

On the rope’s courses he continually got tangled up, and his team mates had to untangle him like a fish in a net. On the climbing wall his arms burned. Their weren’t any harnesses so if you fell, which he did, you fell hard and had to start again

They’d been going at it for hours, every time he trailed behind his team.

He heard a yell from Reyes’ direction; usted es más lento que mi abuela!!!

And he was right; McCree was starting to move slower and slower.

Eventually he heard and exaggerated and irritated sigh while he was on the sparring mats with his face to the floor.

“Alright you nine, you can go to lunch, I’ll deal with this one.” Reyes’ mercifully let his teammates leave, who all stared daggers at him, leaving him on his own, sitting on the matt, covered in mud and sweat.. 

Reyes purposefully strode toward him and McCree expected a swift kick in the nards. Instead, Reyes’ let out a hand for McCree and helped the other man stand up. McCree looked at him with appreciative scepticism. He imagined that weakness in situations like this weren’t looked upon too keenly

Reyes dusted his hands off like he had touched something offensive, brushing them on his pants.

“Look pendejo you have to start toughening up, and you have to start doing it now. Black watch works as a team, and like I said earlier, we’re only as strong as our weakest member. Now if you start applying yourself I think you can be an asset. But if you don’t train hard you’re as good as dead, and you could jeopardise one of our operations and I cant have that.” He was being deadly serious, “I don’t give everyone a second chance but I saw something in you. Don’t make me regret it. Lo tengo?”

McCree nodded. Reyes frowned straightening up, “You speak Spanish?”

McsCree hesitated, “sí.”

Reyes let out a snort. “Ok then. You have latin blood inside you. That means you have no excuse to be a weak little piss ant. You should be filled with fire.

McCree wasn’t expecting this. This calm, rational tone Reyes was using. He’d just stunk up the commanders course he should be furious. But instead Reyes was trying to help him?

He’d never known anyone to try and teach him, or to want him to excel at something. In deadlock, if he fucked up, the others laughed, threw your ass into the dirt and left you to rot. But here was this man giving him a second chance. 

“We’re going to spar.” Oh fuck, he really was going to die that day then. He imagined sparring with Reyes was like sparring with a rabid pit-bull. His eyes had a lot of danger in them and McCree imagined he didn’t need a knife to make him bleed like yesterday.

“You’re gonna come at me. It’s your goal to take me down.” McCree gulped, his Adams apple bobbing. He though Reyes had seen it because he got a weird look in his eyes. Probably ready to tear it out with his teeth.

He motioned for McCree to come at him. Filled with trepidation McCree stepped forward and to a jab at the bigger man. Reyes dodged it easy with a simple twist of his shoulder. McCree tried again, jabbing air, and Reyes grabbed his arm and twisted, shoving McCree to the matt.

“Inténtalo de Nuevo!” Reyes shouted and McCree stood up, nursing his arm before shaking it off. He couldn’t show weakness. Not anymore.

He came forward, ready to try something different. He came forward again; jabbing with his right hand at Reyes’ head and then attempting too knee him in the gut. He made contact with the other mans hard abs and heard him let out a puff of air. Emboldened McCree tried an uppercut to the jaw only to have his legs swept from under him. 

“Don’t get complacent. I’m never going to make the same mistake twice, so neither should you. Use your instincts, predict what I’m going to do before I do it.”

McCree thought that was easy in theory, but the man was all abs and swiftness, he was like a dangerous cat, perfect reflexes. 

McCree came at him, not with his fist this time but his whole body, grabbing the man by his stomach and pushing, knocking him down. He felt a sweet moment of victory before Reyes pushed up with his forearms and wrapped his legs around McCree’s waist and giving a twist, basically flipping McCree over and kicking him to the ground. In another millisecond Reyes was on him, Kneeing him in the back, holding his arms behind his back with minimal pressure.

“Better. Using my weight against me was smart but you lost your focus.”

Reyes’ breath was hot on the back of his neck, tickling his ears. He smelled like cigars and mint. McCree felt a tightening between his groin and the floor. Fuck. He pushed his thighs down hoping to god Reyes couldn’t see his dick from where he was sitting. Reyes’ wait was suddenly off him and McCree thought he had been caught out but Reyes has his back turned, stretching his back muscles. McCree opted to stay on the floor, feigning exhaustion, passing off his panting to the workout he’d just had.

“Think about it kid.” Reyes left with aplomb.

McCree stood up, nursing several bruises and the tightening in his pants, shifting them. He moved back to the Blackwatch bunks to recover, thankfully empty, everyone else at lunch or enjoying the Gibraltar sunshine for the afternoon.

McCree shuffled awkwardly to the showers, stripping off his muddy clothes and turning o the too hot stream scolding his skin. He breathed in the steam and lathered his hair with the crappy shampoo they where given before he took stock and remembered his throbbing erection. He looked at it and bit his lip looking around the room.

In deadlock he didn’t really have much reason, or space, to relieve himself back deadlock. None of the gang members where prize pigs. None of them had rippling muscles or strong thighs or smelled so good. McCree realised he was jacking off. 

To Reyes, the guy who 24 hours ago was causing him grievous bodily harm. 

That didn’t seem to deter McCree as he stood under the stream, imagining Reyes’ weight on top of him, his breath in his ear. He imagined what he must look like without his military gear on. That back, those arms, that ass. Reyes had thighs like tree trunks and buns off steel, McCree can’t exactly remember when he had time to notice that but he did.

He began tweaking one nipple and working into a full pump on his shaft. He closed his eyes, imagining Reyes on top of him, Reyes’ mouth pressed firmly against his lips, giving him beard burn, hi eyes searing through him like daggers. Reyes filling him up-

Suddenly Jesse was coming, shooting heavily against the dirty tiles on the floor, his toes curling as he bit his hand letting out a silent moan. He heard the sound of shuffling feet and, quickly began scrubbing himself off, scrubbing his hands on his softening dick, not wanting to be caught in such a compromising position. He towelled off quickly, his hair flying in every direction, making him look like a sheep dog, the scruff on his face completing the effect. He put on his casual gear and shuffled barefoot back to the cots. He looked around sheepishly, hoping no one had seen him, or heard his cries of ecstasy. He saw that the room was empty, and moved to his own cot.

He put on his boots, lacing them up tight and place his hat on his head. He hadn’t worn it this morning not wanting to get it dirty. He completed the look with a red bandana that he tied around his neck,

He was looked down upon in the gang for his signature cowboy look, saying he looked like a dork. He thought he looked like a real hero. He was just sorry he couldn’t wear his boots with the spurs. The ladies and gents of Gibraltar would go weak at the knees.

He swaggered out of the room to enjoy the sun while it was still around, and to find something to eat, just now realising he was starving,

He had no reason to believe that anyone else had been in the Blackwatch barracks, especially not commander Reyes, who had been lurking around looking for a missing shirt he was sure one of the shitbrains had taken from the wash. McCree had no idea that Reyes was nearby while he was “relieving himself,”. 

Reyes had ducked behind a wall with a grunt hearing the other mans groans from the shower room. Damn that kid was quick. His ears flushed red and he quickly left the area.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no McCree is Mcfalling for his commander! But will it lead anywhere? Yes. Yes it will.
> 
> Follow me at goblin-child.tumblr.com for lots of other overwatch stuff and some quality shitposting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really didn't mean for this to be so dark.... or so slutty.

His name was Gabriel Reyes and he was an alcoholic. A highly functioning, self loathing alcoholic. 

He had taken the last few days off. He called these “Black Days.” He did this usually every time before he went on a mission. He would let his agents waddle around like sheep, take a couple of das off and get so drunk his eyes started to float in the back of his skull.

It wasn’t nerves obviously, he knew he was capable, that everything would go according to plan, that he and his agents would do their equal share of the work and get the job done. So it wasn’t nerves it was more a… foreboding feeling. A sickly churning deep down in his gut, that threatened to swallow him whole if he didn’t drown it down with the highest quality tequila that Gibraltar had to offer. 

It was day two of his binge fest, the night before the mission briefing. They where going to work with overwatch, meaning he had to give he and his agents over to Jack fucking Morrison, and that was pause enough to drink for a whole week.

Missions he was in charge of where so much more simple but getting tangled up in Overwatch’s heroic bullshit, hanging back like an ugly shadow made his skin crawl. It just reminded him of the man he could have been if he tried harder, not this ugly mess he was now, sullen, unpleasant and scary.

He thought on all this as he stumbled into the Overwatch bases shared living space, slurring out a Mexican drinking song he used to sing back in his army days as kid. He remembered teaching it to Jack but the country boy could never manage to speak let alone sing in Spanish.

“Pásame, pásame, pásame, pásame,” he slurred as he slammed his face into the couch, vision spinning.

“Gabe what the fuck are you doing?” a voice barked at him from the hallway.

Gabe’s beanie had fallen half way off his head so he could only see with one eye at the six foot tall blonde hovering over him next to the sofa. “Oh no es el diablo!” Gabe whispered, wheezing out a childish laugh as the other man let out a sigh.

“Gabriel this isn’t healthy or constructive. You know we have a briefing tomorrow and it would be preferred if you weren’t hung-over like a frat boy at a toga party,” Jacks voice had no real bite to it, but Gabe was an immature drunk and he didn’t being told what to do.

“Piss off Morrison,” he said, swiping his hair through his messy crew cut, “I’ll be fine for your briefing, if I puke I’ll just aim at the monkey,” he let out another childish wheeze.

“Winston isn’t a- ugh just clean yourself up. No one wants to see you out here like this.” No one ever wants to see me Gabriel thought bitterly. He had to keep up his boogey man appearance to keep his men straight but it was terribly isolating.  
“Fine I’ll get out of your hair girl scout.” He burped in the other mans face before he fumbled awkwardly off the couch and stood swaying slightly, composing himself. “I’m going outside.” He needed air.

“Gabe it isn’t safe, you shouldn’t be-“ Gabe left the room, waving his middle finger in Jacks direction as he left.

He stumbled towards the lower cliffs, where he could see the beaches. It was still pretty high up, and his equilibrium was off, but it was a nice view. He stared at the waves below him, crashing on the rocks, swirling beautifully in the dark.

It looked comforting. He had the urge to be in the water, to crash into its depths, to let the cold consume him, suffocate him. It had to be better than feeling the way he did now. How he felt every day.

This wasn’t the first time he had felt like this, on the brink of giving it all up. He always got low when he was drunk but occasionally he’d feel a pull in the back of his mind, telling him it would be easier if he could just leave it all behind, the blood and the gore and the torture. He hated himself for it. For all the shitty things he’d done. All the lives he’d probably ruined in the name of “justice”. 

He was still staring at the swirling waves, not really noticing as his boots edged closer and closer to the cliffs edge. The noise of the waves roared in his ears, drowning out the thoughts. He felt himself starting to well up. A single tear falling down an expressionless face. Before he knew what he was doing, he took another step off the cliff, and dived.

 

Cold pierced every part of him like knives, creeping into every fibre of his being, down to his heart, piercing through it. There was nothing but darkness and the cold, and the pressure of the water, crushing him, holding him, promising to make it all go away, there was a small few moments where he struggled for air, gasping in the blackness but he soon succumbed to the water, letting it destroy every part of him, tear him piece by piece until there was nothing left. He was numb, his mind began to close off, he heard the faint sounds of a guitar playing, and the crooning of a sweet voice lulling him to sleep.

 

His eyes flew open sharply and he coughed up a bucket-load of cold salt water. Every part of him hurt, he was convulsing on the ground in the sand, teeth chattering and ears ringing. Why was he here? Why did everything hurt? What was that noise and who was tugging at his drenched shirt, jerking around his waterlogged head?

It was a voice, deep, purring like a cat in his ear, growling in panic.

“Sir?? Sir??? Wake up! Oh geez oh geez please don’t be dead fuck wake up wake up wakeup.” The voice pleaded and Gabe swung his bulging eyes to its source, vision clearing, revealing the shadow of his saviour, frantic with terror. He took in another huge breath of air, coughing.

“M-m-McCree” he wheezed, “w-w-w fuck…” he coughed.

“Oh thank god oh sweet Jesus Mary and Joseph yer alive oh my god.”

“S-shut up,” the blathering of the other man was confusing him and hurting his head, which hurt like fire.

It took what must have been an hour, McCree checking that he was alive, and Gabe telling him to stop talking. He finally composed himself and was able to make sense of himself and the world around him.

“Why are you here McCree?” Gabe was genuinely confused, what was the kid doing here? What was HE doing here? His head hurt. The last time he saw McCree he was…

“Oh my god sir,” McCree sounded like he was about to burst into tears, “I was just sitting on this here beach, trying to find a quiet spot to think before tomorrow because I was nervous you know? First mission and all and I always liked the beach, ever since I was a kid I-“ 

“McCree!” his old impatience was slowly returning, as he tried to sit up, before deciding better of it. 

“Right right well as I just said sir I was sitting here on this here beach and I looked up and I saw a shadow up near the base on the cliff, dark as a reaper just swaying in the breeze. Then suddenly it toppled off of the Cliffside and I knew it was a person and I screamed, I didn’t know who it was.  
“I didn’t think I just ran into the ocean to save the person you know? My mama raised me right she wouldn’t take kind to me just letting some poor soul drown. So I swam and I swear it was colder than Santa’s ball sack in the water my heart almost stopped it was like ice.  
“I tried frantically to find you, couldn’t see you at first but then I saw a ripple in the waves and I just jumped and grabbed hold, dragging you back to the shore. You where so heavy I almost let go a few times. When I saw it was you my heart really did stop I lost my shit. I didn’t know what to do I don’t know CPR or nothing so I just kind of shook you till you came too.”

Gabriel’s head swung around as he sat up proper, and took in the cascade of information coming from the oaf’s lips. He only caught the gist of it. He had jumped. He remembered now. He had wanted to die.

He sat there for a good few moments, not knowing whether to hate McCree or thank him for saving him. He looked over at the other man who was looking at him s earnestly, panic in his saucer like brown eyes, white as a ghost. Gabe felt a pang of guilt looking at him.

“Thank you.” He stretched his muscles, his arms felt like led and his back muscles screamed at him as he tried to circulate his body, warm himself up.

McCree looked at him and looked at away as Gabe stretched. “No problem sir I was just doing the right thing. Do you… do you mind telling me what you where doing up there sir? I how did you fall-“

“Yes McCree I do mind. I must have just lost concentration.”

“Over a cliff sir? That’s a shitty time to lose focus sir, I mean no disrespect-“

“Shut up McCree and let me think.” He drew his heavy legs up towards his chest, taking a few deep breathes into his aching lungs. McCree was still staring at him.

Suddenly he remembered the last time he had seen the younger man. After he sparred with him earlier hat week, in the showers he was… Gabe still couldn’t believe it. He could wager a guess as to what or whom McCree was imagining that night as he jerked himself off. Suddenly he felt subconscious, his clothes clinging to his skin.

He wasn’t oblivious. He knew he was attractive. He was built like a tonka truck and he had a great ass that had never gone unseen by the ladies. Or cowboys it seemed. Usually he’d shrug off such attention, occasionally he’d indulge himself if he were in the mood but in general he wasn’t interested, so McCree looking at him like that was… messy. 

He couldn’t have a subordinate fraternising with him, getting ideas. He looked at the younger man again; whose puppy dog eyes where filled with concern and sighed. He felt an unfamiliar sensation in his gut. Was probably just the salt water. He frowned.

“Let’s just get back to base…” he grumbled, attempting to stand up, before falling on his ass and into the other mans arms. 

“Whoah there sir you should take it easy for a bit”

“No. Let’s go.” He stood up again on shaking legs. 

“Well at least let me help you.” McCree wrapped his arm under Gabes, letting the older man lean on him. Ugh. Gabe felt uncomfortable in the other mans grasp. But hey, the guy saved his life; Gabe supposed he could let him cop a feel.

They stumbled slowly back towards the base, stopping every time Gabe got too tired, or McCree had to shift the other mans weight.

It took them a solid 30 or so minutes just to make it back to the watchpoint from the beach, and another ten to get to the Overwatch barracks. Gabe was hesitant to let McCree take him inside. He was sure he could make it to bed by himself but he let McCree hobble to him to his room as quietly as possible, slipping into Gabe’s room.

“Okay McCree you’ve done enough. Thank you for… everything.” He said falling onto his bed; impervious to the other mans stares as he lounged back, sprawled unceremoniously, his dripping shirt riding up his washboard stomach.

He didn’t hear McCree leave right away and he looked up. The other man was still standing there awkwardly, hangdog and unsure what to do with himself.

“You can go now,” Gabe said abruptly. He probably shouldn’t be so rude to the kid he had just saved his life.

McCree stood there still. “Sir it’s just… I want to make sure you’re all right you know? Nobody else knows what happened and if something happens to you during the night-“

“What you want to sleep on my floor and play nursemaid?” Gabe said lazily.

“That’s not what I meant.” McCree said, frustrated at his superiors abrupt callousness. 

Gabe sat up proper and sighed, looking at McCree hard in the eye. The other man didn’t flinch. They stared for a while, in a stalemate. Gabe stared some more taking in the full picture. McCree looked like a wet dog, his hair hanging in strings around his neck, his scrappy beard. The kid wasn’t as scrawny as Gabe seemed to think he was a couple weeks ago, bloody in a shitty diner.

Back then McCree had been a pathetic, bloody mess, Gabe didn’t really have a chance to check out what he actually looked like he had a job to do. But now, standing next to Gabe’s bed he saw a different picture.

McCree was tall, probably not as tall as Gabe himself but he was taller than he remembered. He had strong arms, covered in a spider’s web of muscle and veins, ending with big, strong hands that gripped white knuckled into fists at his side. He didn’t have abs like Gabe, a little puppy fat maybe but it wasn’t off-putting, and his legs where lithe and strong.

Gabe stood up, crossing the few steps that stood between them and looked McCree in the eyes once more. They burned a brilliant brown colour.

“Sir-“

Gabe stopped him, gabbing the kid by the collar, making him squeak, they where nose to nose, and Gabriel could smell the cigar stench and saltwater on the other mans breath before he lunged, and pulled McCree into a hot, messy kiss that filled his chest, satiating a hunger he didn’t know was there.

McCree let out a noise and backed away as much as he could but gabe was all up in his space..

“Sir, you don’t know what yer doin’. You’ve just been through a near death experience you can’t trust your judgement you-“

“McCree,” Gabe rebuked looking at the other mans swollen lips, “You want this right? I’ve seen the way you look at me, the stares, your not very subtle.”

McCree’s blush was beautiful and ran all the way down his neck. Maybe it was the adrenaline; maybe he felt sorry for the kid deep down, all he knew was that right now he wanted this. Eventually, McCree nodded. “Then shut up.”

Gabe pounced like a jaguar and landed a hot mouth on McCree’s jaw, ripping an embarrassing moan out of the cowboy’s chest. Gabe was glad the door was closed; he guessed McCree would be a screamer. 

He grabbed he other man by the back of the neck, continuing to lavish his tongue and his teeth into McCree’s throat, burying his nose into salt water covered skin. McCree was shivering like a leaf underneath him and Gabe grunted in annoyance, pushing until he had the cowboy pinned to the wall, the younger mans jolting in response,

Gabe moved his mouth up to McCree’s jaw, biting and leaving a trail of welts before licking them and soothing the skin, McCree was crooning like an injured cat underneath him. Gabe grunted and moved one of his hands to cover the others mouth, he didn’t mind the sounds, the sent a shiver to his already pulsing dick but he was busy at work and didn’t want McCree to move around too much. 

Still the cowboy moaned into his hand as Gabe sucked and kissed behind McCree’s ear, biting the lobe softly, driving the other man insane.

Gabe had sex the way he worked, like he was working an over an enemy, milking them for information until they screamed, driving them out of their minds. McCree was already so hypersensitive and responsive, it made Gabe rock hard.

McCree’s hands started to move behind him, to try and grab at Gabe. Gabe grunted, pulling the others shirt up over his head, and using the wet fabric to hold the cowboys arms above his head.

Now unable to cover McCree’s mouth the cowbo let out some of the most depraved noises Gabe had ever heard, panting like a dog and letting out little “fuck fuck fuck”’s.

Gabe moved his head back to insect his work, the red marks all over McCree’s jaw and neck, the tears of ecstasy in the other mans eyes. He grunted, primal and ready for more.

“Don’t move,” he said sternly to McCree, moving down to mark the others torso, when McCree disobeyed, Gabe bit at one of his nipples leaving McCree cross eyed, but still.

Gabe moved all the way down to the other mans navel, soaking the hair there with his tongue. McCree’s hips jolted in response. Gabe grunted, removing his mouth to shuck down the others wet pants and underwear, letting McCree’s surprisingly large dick bob out, red and swollen covered in precum.

“Don’t. Move.” Gabe grunted again. With deft, expert skill he took in McCree’s length, torturingly slow. McCree bucked, but Gabriel used an arm to pin down the other mans hips.

He set the pace, so slow until he reached McCree’s base, deeply breathing and bobbing back off again, he did this a few more times before upping the tempo the tiniest bit.

“My god you’re killin’ me darling, my god, my god,” McCree sounded like he was choking on air.

Gabriel sucked down McCree’s shaft down before coming off with a scandalous pop. McCree whined.

“Silencio,” Gabe growled. He stood up, leaving the others angry length hanging. He grabbed McCree’s jaw roughly and clashed their mouths together, all teeth, hot air and lust. It was like he was physically trying to suck the life out of the other man.

He shifted, grabbing McCree by the ass, picking him up deftly and carrying him over to the bed, dropping him unceremoniously onto the mattress, McCree’s pupils blown out of his skull as he watched the other man strip off his boots, pants and finally his shirt revealing Gabes perfect body, dark skinned, muscles and ass covered in dark hair. McCree looked at him, starting to shuck his pants off around his ankles before Gabe growled. He padded over to the bed and straddled McCree, his full weight heavy against the cowboy’s torso.

Once again he pinned the younger mans arms over his head and lunged down, sticking his tongue down McCree’s throat, exploring every inch of his perfect swollen mouth.

Coming up for air, he moved one arm back, keeping both of McCree’s hands pinned with one big hand.

He placed a couple of fingers shockingly gentle upon the other mans lips, trailing them before dipping two fingers inside, getting them wet as McCree instinctually sucked on them and moaned.

Gabe removed his hand, “Good boy,” he rumbled smiling wickedly.

He moved the wet digits and pressed them to his asshole, slicking around the area with McCree’s spit, there was a method to his madness. He started opening himself up, closing his eyes and letting out a shuddering breath. McCree looked up at him with such wonder you’d swear he was looking at a god.

Satisfied that he was open, he braces his hands on the others chest, pressing him firmly into the mattress with all his weight, before slowly lowering himself onto McCree’s dick.

Once he bottomed out he sat there again, feeling the pull and the stretch inside, throwing his head back. He then began riding McCree, not letting the other man set the pace, sweating, moving his hips up and down, ass bouncing as he went.

“Grab my ass,” he panted at McCree. McCree complied, gasping for air under Gabriel’s weight, ‘’Harder,” McCree grabbed to big handfuls of Gabe’s ass, sending Gabe’s nerves aflame.

Gabriel picked up the pace, and he began jerking himself off. McCree was a drooling mess and he was pretty sure the other man couldn’t hold out much longer, so he used his thighs to move faster and faster and faster.

He let out a roar as McCree let out a mirroring groan and they both came, McCree inside Gabe, and Gabe over McCree’s chest. 

Gabe sat there, panting, head thrown back. He looked down at McCree who was very much in the same state. 

Eventual he slowly lift himself off, groaning at the loss, and slowly untangled himself from McCree.

He groaned, stretched his legs, and left McCree to go to the bathroom and clean up. Grabbing some tissues he re entered the room to wipe off McCree’s chest, before shuffling the other man over so he could lay on the bed next to him and pull the sheets over them. 

They didn’t cuddle or spoon or any of that romantic shit that Gabriel imagined most normal people where into. He supposed McCree was one of those people but he wasn’t This was sex, and he had enjoyed it. McCree had saved his life, and he had repaid him, but he wasn’t emotionally intelligent enough to deal with anything more, and so it was with no great surprise that when he woke up the next morning, stiff and sore, McCree was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -yeah so it did get pretty dark there but I just think about gabe a lot and what he was like and what would lead him to become what he does and I think there would be a lot of anger and sadness there.
> 
> \- I don't want to trivialise Gabes saddness at all with sex but I don't know it felt like the right time and I want to do @ plot pointsa chapter cuz this is probably... half way done?
> 
> Follow me at goblin-child.tumblr.com for lots of other overwatch stuff and some quality shitposting.  
> -Don't worry Gabe softens up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shimada time! But this ain't yo mamas McHanzo fic.

How was Jesse supposed to focus on this meeting, this very important meeting, his first mission brief, an overwatch mission, with the big angst ridden lump of man that was Gabriel Reyes standing at the front of the room. 

His commander was glaring at all his peers at the head of the room, with the other leaders of overwatch. He looked miserable, well he always looked miserable, but today he was lacking his usual, brooding confidence. He looked lost.

He obviously was lost if last night was anything to go by. McCree practically jumped out of his own skin when he saw the other man fall from the cliff tops, his instincts going into overdrive as he ran to save him. The cold and the panic. He couldn’t find him in the water for a solid few seconds and when he did, Reyes was completely out of it, a heavy weight that he struggled to carry to the beach.

He didn’t know CPR so he had felt absolutely helpless, he had no intention of giving the breath of life because he’d have been pretty sure Reyes would have punched him in the throat. What had he been doing on those cliffs?

Speaking of kissing, he was still reeling the aftermath. He felt so guilty, it kept him up for the remainder of the night, laying next to Reyes stiffly in the commanders bed. He had taken advantage of Reyes. Reyes had said he knew about his crush, and he supposed he hadn’t been all that subtle. The longing stares, the times he waited too much on the sparring matt, letting Reyes linger on a hold. Then there was the blatant jacking off in the showers. He couldn’t really be surprised Reyes had figured it out.

So when Reyes had kissed him, changing their relationship irrevocably, Jesse may have let himself give in, despite Gabriel- Reyes-, fragile state of mind. He was obviously a very disturbed man. Despite that Jesse had let him have his way with him, though he didn’t really have many chances to object did he?

He was still hurting; fresh bruises all over, sore to the touch. He couldn’t believe how fast Reyes had managed to take him apart. He was already hypersensitive around his commander but the masterful, almost calculated way Reyes had pushed every single button McCree had was too much. He’d never had sex like that, where he was the centre of attention, and he doubted he’d ever experience it again. He wasn’t stupid. Reyes had been full of adrenaline, not to mention way above his league. Reyes wasn’t about to start a committed relationship with an awkward, goofy subordinate.

But the night before had changed McCree, he was in love with his commander, his fucked up, violent, emotionally constipated boss. He’d have to deal with this, he might even have to leave Blackwatch, but seeing Reyes in the meeting, sad and alone, he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave Reyes behind no matter how much sense it made.

The noise of a squeaking microphone brought his attention back to the meeting. At the podium stood a man with a strong jaw and a crop of beautiful blonde hair. He carried the air of a man with integrity, who took his job very seriously.

“Good morning everyone, as you all know, I am Jack Morrison, strike commander of overwatch.” From where he sat he could see Reyes’ snap to attention, trying to burn a hole in the back of Morrisons head with his eyes.

“Recently we have received information that leads us to believe that the Shimada clan, a Yakuza group operating out of the small city of Hanamura Japan, have been developing a weapon that could allow them to build and connect an omnic god system. This would mean they would have an omnic army with a single consciousness at their disposal, which they could control and deploy at will. These aren’t everyday omnic AI with free will; this is an army of remorseless killing machines,

“The Shimada clan leader, Eizo Shimada, has been making moves recently to extend his influences beyond Japan. He has set up small footholds in Dorado, Ilios, and Lijiang. If this man and his clan are permitted to keep gaining territory, with an omnic army at their disposal we are looking at the another omnic war, with human intelligence, and a lot of money funding the process.

“Our plan is to send in some of Overwatch’s greatest field agents, as well as a small battalion of covert operators for backup, to move in and take the information for the omnic hive mind out of Shimadas hands.

“We want to do this as quietly as possible, keeping the fight contained within the city of Hanamura. If other Yakuza clans gain wind that Overwatch is interfering with their affairs, we’ll have giant shit storm coming from both sides. Any questions?”

A young blonde woman, sitting at the front with the Overwatch operatives, raised her hand, “I have a question,” she had a pretty German accent McCree thought., “How have we gained this information? Eizo Shimada is known for his secrecy, it is what has kept his clan in power for so long.”

“We have a man on the inside,” Morrison answered, clicking a button on a remote before him, showing a holograph of a young man with shocking green hair, a stern expression covering his face. “Genji Shimada, Eizo’s second son, he has been running intel for us for a while now.”

“How can ve trust him???” roared the mountain of a man that McCree had seen around the base. “Ve could be headed into a trap. Shimada could be vaiting for us!”

“I agree,” said a small dwarf at the table, the size difference between the two men was comical. “We can’t trust this fellow. He looks like a clown! It is too risky Jack!”

“Genji has been loyal to us for a long time Torbjörn. I trust him, and it is more risky to let something this massive go unchecked.”

“How many of my men do you expect me to give you morrison?” Reyes piped up for the first time and Jesse looked between the two men, interested, there seemed to be some tension there.

“As I said Reyes, we will need a small squad of Blackwatch agents to cover our men from the back-“

“You want human shields is what you want,” Gabe accused, “These men don’t have super soldier abilities,” he said these last three words with a great amount of venom, “Or giant suits of medieval armour to keep them safe,” he gestured to the mountain man who looked like he was ready to fight him. Jesse would have paid to see that fight.

“I assure you Gabe that your men will be in no more danger than we will be, you will be sticking to the back, with any luck, we won’t need you at all.” This sounded like the commander was throwing a personal insult at Reyes, and Jesse suddenly felt protective. Reyes yielded. 

“You all have your orders. We’ll be sending in two airships under cloaking devices to take us to the edge of the city, after that we move in on foot. We don’t want to risk being caught off guard.

 

Jesse was at his bunk, looking at his locker indecisively. Before him sat his pride and joy, that he had smuggled into overwatch the day he left Dead Lock, but he hadn’t brought it out for fear that Reyes would confiscate it.

His trusty six shooter, Peacekeeper, given to him by his pa on the ranch, so he could learn how to shoot. It was a small, not as hefty as the standard Blackwatch rifle, but it packed a wallop, and with Jesse holding it, it was downright lethal if he said so himself. He prided himself on his aim with the weapon, his ability to fire precise rapid shots, and his special move. He called it the deadeye, it took all of his concentration and strength, but if it came down to it, he could shoot 6 men in the head rapid fire at 100-foot range.

He’d hidden the gun because he knew Reyes wouldn’t let him use it at practice. Now he was holstering it in his pants, hiding it from clear view. He felt safer with it on him.

He moved out to the hangar where Reyes was waiting for them at the airships. When he arrived, he caught his commander’s eye before Reyes looked away. Jesse’s heart dropped. Was that disdain? Did he not value McCree? Maybe now he just thought the younger soldier was nothing more than a cock hungry kiss ass. Jesse’s chest hurt.

“All right men listen up. I don’t think we should be on this mission, but we are. It is my job to make sure that the vast majority of you do not die so that Girl Scout troupe 169 can get in and out with the information. Some of you will be hanging back and helping clear an escape route, because you sure as shit know the Shimada gumi are going to start tailing us as soon as we capture the intel. 

“We need to make sure they don’t make it past the line. I will be leading a small troupe in with the overwatch agents for extra support, because there’s like 5 of them and some of them don’t even carry guns.”

He had been moving up and down the line of men, looking them sternly in the eyes, drawing their focus. When he got to McCree, his eyes instead focused on the younger mans hat. “You can’t wear that.” He said before moving on.

McCree flinched like he’d been stung by an angry wasp. It was like the night before hadn’t even happened for Reyes. He took his cowboy hat off and let it hang limply in his fingers at his side.

 

The airship into Hanamura had been solemn. No one had talked as they descended, landing a few kilometres shy of Hanamura castle, where the information they needed was held. They’d have to walk in on foot for the remainder of the journey under cover of nightfall. It was just as risky as landing right on Eizo Shimada’s doorstep, but they had no way of knowing what kind of security systems or weapons the castle had. At least this way, if they ran into trouble they could easily shoot their way out. 

Jesse was part of Reyes’ unit, much to his disappointment. If he had of been on the back lines he wouldn’t have had to deal with Reyes’ withering stares or rough orders. 

He was ready though. He had been training for weeks, he could use this as an opportunity to push past all of the drama, focus solely on the mission, the task at hand. He would prove he was a competent soldier; he wouldn’t let Reyes distract him.

 

The streets of Hanamura were silent, boots on gravel disturbing the unnerving calm. Jesse looked around the dead streets. Even in the dark he was swept away by the city’s beauty, it was full of local character, beautiful trees and ancient architecture. Looming over the city was Hanamura castle, an imposing spire highlighted by the unusually bright moon.

A groaning, noise, like the hinges of a large rusty door, had Reyes gesturing for them all to stay still. The overwatch agents had charged ahead of them, but the noise was coming off to the side, and there were no signs of battle coming from the castle. 

Another noise, a tapping on top of the buildings above them, light and rapid. It grew closer, and then fell silent. The soldiers stood, pointing their guns in every direction looking for the source of the sound.

A loud whistle blew past them, and suddenly a soldier was down, yelping in agony. Everyone turned, distracted by the commotion. There was a large arrow sticking out of the man’s shoulder, right where it joined his trigger arm. Another whistle, and another man down, an arrow piercing through his forearm, and coming out the other side, McCree supressed the urge to heave. 

All eyes and weapons pointed upwards, looking for the invisible assailant, and that’s when Jesse noticed the small shadow, knocking another arrow into place.

A few things happened at once, McCree yelled out, calling attention to the archer, (who the fuck carried a bow these days?) before another arrow flew out, flying within an inch of McCree’s face, finding it’s mark in the jugular of the soldier beside him, who let out a horrific gargling noise before jerking, and bumping Jesse to the ground. 

The smell of blood reached his nose and he gagged as the sound of a shotgun blasted his eardrums. He managed to look up to see who had fired the shot.

It was Reyes, pointing a heavy shotgun at the archer with one strong arm, moving like the shadow of death. Suddenly multiple rifles started going off in the direction of the fleeing assailant, who flew off two more arrows in their direction for good measure, taking down two more of their men, one through the leg, another through the neck. 

Reyes moved, glided almost to follow the attacker, blasting off shot after shot, like the crashing of the waves that threatened to consume him the night before. 

The shadow had led them exactly where it wanted them to be, out into the open, out of the shadows, and that’s when all hell broke loose. 

The archers job was tactical rather that defensive, it had lured them into a trap, as suddenly, a swarm of yakuza surrounded them, a sea of suited gangsters brandishing rifles, began firing at them from every direction.

The Blackwatch agents all ducked for whatever cover they could find. McCree scurried, dodging bullets until he found an old tow truck to duck behind.

He peered over and aimed his rifle at the swarm of agents. There were twice as many yakuza as there were Blackwatch, they were outnumbered. McCree began methodically picking them off from the sidelines as the other Blackwatch members headed straight toward their attackers.

One, two, three, four, he was shooting them like fish in a barrel but they kept swarming, he was barely making a dent.

A familiar whistle pierced through the gunfire, and suddenly, the archer was back, shooting haphazardly into the fray. McCree saw the bowmen for the first time in the moonlight. He was standing on a building across the street from him. A short man with powerful arms was raising a gigantic bow. He had a heavy brow and a stern expression, catlike dark eyes keenly looking for their next target. He had inky black hair that framed his face and wore a bizarre outfit, the top half of his shirt hanging, exposing half of his chest and one strong arm, covered to the wrist in a tattoo McCree couldn’t quite see. He raised his rifle to clip the archer but before he could take the shot, he saw Reyes shooting forward, two shotguns raised, one in each hand and McCree watched ass he fired countless rounds at the fleeing archer.

McCree looked at his commander in awe, never imagining that Reyes’ style was so wild and disorderly, you would of never known he was a soldier, he looked more like a hired killer, but it worked. Jesse watched as the other mans muscles moved and tensed, like he was a dancer performing in front of a stage. It was enough to make his mouth water. A bullet whizzed past and he remembered he wasn’t supposed to think of Reyes like that anymore. He raised his weapon and began firing again.

The number of Yakuza was still overwhelming when a loud roar ripped down the street. “Raaaah we are coming friends!” As if from nowhere, the overwatch agents appeared within their ranks and began tearing down the enemy. There was the mountain man, Reidnthelm with his massive war hammer, smashing Yakuza into the ground. The dwarf Torbjörn stumbled through firing projectiles from a device on his arm, Commander Morrison, mowing down gang members with his pulse rifle, and a woman McCree remembered seeing at the meeting, firing from a sniper rifle she held carefully to her eye.

Within no time the Yakuza began to either die or flee, no match for the special operatives.

McCree lowered his rifle, scanning the chaos, before he spotted Reyes, down a side street, looking at as guns, not firing. He was empty, and there were 6 Yakuza closing in with pistols aimed right at his commanders head.

As if in slow motion, McCree dropped his rifle and reflexively pulled Peacekeeper out of his belt. Running forward he lined up his shot, levelled his eyes so that all of the yakuza were in sight, and fanned his hammer, landing six headshots.

The noise of battle was slowly dying off as a startled Reyes looked at the six dead men in front of him, before looking up and spotting McCree.

“What the fuck.,” Reyes’ voice was croaky and McCree grinned at him lopsidedly, “What the fuck,” Reyes repeated more forcefully.

“Yer welcome,” McCree said.

“I’m welcome?” Reyes looked at him with burning intensity, “For what you could have blown my head of with that old piece of crap! Where did you get that thing anyway? It’s not safe to be using non regulation weapons you could have gotten yourself killed you idiot!”

McCree reeled back. What the fuck? Why was Reyes being so unreasonable? “First of all, I wouldn’t of shot you, I could shoot a bird in the neck from a hundred paces with this thing,” his face was turning red, he could feel it, “second, you use shotguns! The loudest weapons on earth it was probably your fault the Yakuza heard us at all!”

“Don’t talk to me like that you ingrate I’m a trained veteran, not some hick kid who learned to shoot some ridiculously out-dated pistol by shooting tin cans!”

McCree had had I, “What the fuck is your problem? I just saved your life, for the second time in 38 hours might I add.”

“It’s not your job to save me McCree! I’m your commanding officer and you’re letting your dick cloud your judgement.” 

McCree was hurt. How could Reyes talk to him like that? He wasn’t some dog who was just out to hump his leg he actually gave a damn about his commander. More than he realised. If he wanted to keep him safe, he would, because he loved him. Oh fuck.

Before McCree had the chance to argue further, or burst into tears, Torbjörn saddled up beside them.

“Not to interrupt gentlemen but we need to get a move on. We have the info and the Shimadas are none too happy about it, there will be backup soon, so we need to go.

Reyes turned his loathing gaze away from McCree and nodded. “Move out soldier,” he said gruffly, as he walked stiffly away.

Suddenly Torbjörn burst out laughing, nudging McCree’s arm, “What a charmer.”

“Pfft” McCree agreed. That was the last time he was ever going to stick his neck out for that son of a bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think. Reading this chapter I was kind of unsure I felt like I crammed too much in?
> 
> Anyway what will Reyes do next chapter? Mope.
> 
> Follow me at goblin-child.tumblr.com for lots of other overwatch stuff and some quality shitposting.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe get's some sage advice.
> 
> Shorter this time because I split it in half with the next one.

“Sometimes Gabriel you can be the biggest idiot…” Ana sighed pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Excuse me?”

They had been chatting for almost an hour now. They had started off by talking about the mission, which somehow led to him telling her about his close call, and him yelling at McCree. He hadn’t told her the full what the full extent of their relationship was, that they had had sex, or that McCree had saved him after the incident at the cliffs, which he also didn’t tell her about. He told her he was one of his agents, one that had been on his mind recently, how fast he had improved in training and his ridiculous cowboy get up. 

Ana was a perceptive woman though. Gabe knew she had picked up that he was leaving something out, that maybe their relationship was something more than commander and subordinate. Then he had started telling her about the close call with the yakuza, how he had been so stunned after McCree had saved him, again, that he’d screamed his head off.

His feelings for McCree the last few days had gotten… Confusing. After they had slept together, he knew he had fucked up. He had been in shock, and whacked out of his mind, he should have known better. But he’d seen McCree around, looking at him when he though Gabe couldn’t see, his eagerness during training. Then there was that incident in the showers and he found that he didn’t hate the idea as much as he probably should have. So maybe choosing to sleep with him hadn’t just been to shut McCree up. But he refused to think about it until the incident in Japan.

After McCree had skilfully shot down half a dozen men right before his eyes, Gabe had been shocked, and a little bit impressed. His heart had been hammering. In the next few seconds his mind had started to stir with memories and feelings and he realised that he liked McCree. He knew he was fucked, so he decided the best way out was to scream at the other man, because that was what Gabriel did, he distanced himself whenever things got too hard.

“You heard me,” Ana continued. “You always do this. You never let yourself be happy, you have to drive everyone away.”

“What are you talking about I told you he’s just one of my agents he’s not-“ Ana fixed him with a deadly stare, daring him to continue.

“You clearly care about this man, he saved his life for gods sake, and you had no right to treat him so harshly.” She sipped the tea she had been nursing for half an hour.

“Ana it’s not as if I could do anything about it, I’m his boss!” Ana smiled smugly at his slip up and he sighed. He swiped his hair through his crew cut, rubbing his tired eyes. He hadn’t gotten much sleep since Hanamura.

“Your right, I just don’t know how to fix this. If he didn’t hate me before he sure as shit will now.”

Ana stood up, setting her tea on the kitchen counter, “Well you better figure it out quick. Not everyone can wait around until you figure out how you feel, that isn’t how life works. It’s not fair to him.” She left him there standing in the dim light, grinding his teeth. How was he going to deal with this?

The Blackwatch agents had had the last few days off after the mission. They had lost a fair amount of good men on the mission, and they needed time to recover and heal their wounds. That meant Gabriel had a lot of extra time to stew and mope around the base.

He was like a caged cougar that couldn’t manage to stretched his muscles out. He barked at the other Overwatch agents if they so much as looked at him. He got into a shouting match with Reinhardt over some leftovers in the fridge. He drank for three nights in a row. He felt like a mopey teen in a rom com pining after the had cheerleader, it was disgusting.

When time came to start training again, his stomach started doing flips in anticipation of seeing McCree again, although he had no idea what he would say when he did. He’d organised a running course for the agents to start off. He’d placed traffic cones all around the watchpoint, diving through pathways and around all the buildings. He was too lethargic to put up with much else.

When the agents started pouring out from their bunks, annoyed that they had to return to work. He looked through the hoard quickly to try and find McCree, to no avail. Where was he? Usually his hat made him stand out from the crowd but he couldn’t see it. He tried not to let his disappointment show on his face.

“Uh okay guys…” he began lamely, looking blankly down at the clipboard in his hands that he hadn’t written on yet, “I want five laps around the watchpoint. The agent’s groaned, and Gabriel supressed a sigh, “Shut up, you guy’s can’t afford to get soft. You saw what happened in Hanamura we don’t want anything sneaking up on us like that again. You saw what happened to those agents.” He let the graphic images speak for themselves; he didn’t have the energy to shout much today. He still couldn’t see McCree.

He walked along slowly besides the recruits for a few laps before he saw him. McCree was straggling down the back, walking nonchalantly with a couple of other agents, chatting like schoolgirls at recess. Gabe’s heart started hammering and he panicked, again.

“Hey! This isn’t a stroll through the park get moving!” he regretted it straight away.  
The other agents grumbled under their breaths before taking of at a run. McCree however stopped long enough to give Gabe the meanest look he’d ever seen. He was a tough man who had seen some gruesome things but none of them made him feel as sick to his stomach as the hatred on the other mans face as he ran away.

He hadn’t really planned on anything after the run but seeing McCree had turned his blood to ice, so he began taking it out on all of Blackwatch.

He made them do hours of sit ups and burpees and sparring. Every time he saw McCree he would bark a little harsher, pushing the other man like a little boy on the playground pulling on a girls pigtails. McCree took it all in silence, glaring all the while.

By the end of the day Gabriel was emotionally exhausted, “Get out of my site,” he’d bellowed at the confused recruits, who knew their commander was harsh, but not usually so cruel.

He was itching out of his skin, and he wasn’t ready to settle down for the day so he went to the shooting gallery. He picked up two hefty shotguns from the armoury and keyed in some orders on Athena’s console, telling her what kind of training he wanted to do that day.

He stood in the middle of the room, his fingers itching over the triggers of the long guns.

A swarm of practice robots where dropped into the room from the roofs overhead forklifts. They packed the gallery from wall to wall , there had to of been at least fifty of them.

Athena’s voice boomed overhead, “Five… Four… Three… Two… One, attack commencing.

Gabe’s eyes flew open and he swung his arms like a bat out of hell, firing rapidly, each shot landing on a bot, some of them took up to 5 or six shots to knock down, others he shot straight through the eyeballs. When he ran out of ammunition he flung the shotguns as far as he could across the room, roaring, and Athena would lower down another two guns for him to use.

Die die die, Gabe was full of bloodlust, spinning around the room like a dark ballerina, gunning down bot after bot. He reached the last one and grunted, aiming his guns high he shot it repeatedly through the torso until he was so close that the barrel was pressed right to the metal face, and he blasted it off.

The room was silent for a while as Gabriel took in ragged breaths. Then there was a slow clap at the entrance of the gallery. Gabe eyes swung towards the intruder, landing on the last possible person in the world he wanted to see.

“What the fuck are you doing here gringo?”  
“Just admiring the show,” Jack chuckled softly. “I don’t think I’ve seen you that batshit mad since we where recruits. Quite impressive.”

“I’m glad I could entertain you,” Gabes voice dripped with sarcasm, his teeth bared in a vicious snarl.

“What’s wrong Gabe?” Jack spoke with such sincerity and concern that Gabe was caught off guard. He hadn’t heard the other man talk like that since…

“Nothing,” he sighed as he moved to pick up the shotguns from the sides of the room. There were about 20 of them. He had to haul them back all the way to the gallery’s entrance, the work burned his arms.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing. I’ve seen you around the base these last couple days. You could turn milk sour with the mood you’ve been in.”

Gabe huffed, dragging the last few guns.

“Ana told me Gabe.”

He cursed furiously in Spanish. He loved Ana more than anyone but her one character flaw was that she liked Jack Morrison, which meant nothing was kept a secret for very long. He knew why she did it, she thought if she couldn’t convince him, then Morrison could.

“Don’t lecture me Jack, nothing is going to happen, I know I can’t fraternise with recruits.”

“First of all, you know that’s bullshit, you know I wouldn’t give a damn who you saw Gabe. Second, I know you Gabe, probably better than anyone on this base, including Ana. I know how you get when you get caught in your feelings, you’re emotionally constipated.” He chuckled.

Gabe gave him a look, are you going somewhere with this?

Morrison sighed, “Remember when we where together?”

The words hung in the air as Gabriel’s brain short-circuited trying to process them. Jack never brought this up. Ever. He knew Gabriel would probably snap his neck, but he must of thought Gabe had worn himself out shooting.

Gabe and Jack had been together when Overwatch first started. Jack had been the only person he had ever loved, and the only person he could open up to. Their relationship was easy; Gabe had never felt so comfortable. But then Jack was promoted to strike commander.

He wasn’t so childish that he would let promotion break them up, at first he was proud. But as Jack’s power over the team increased, and he was pushed down into Blackwatch, their relationship dynamic changed. They didn’t have time for each other, and Jack became so dedicated to his work that Gabe started to feel jaded and unwanted, filled with insecurity. It didn’t end well.

“Why are you bringing that up,” Gabe seethed. 

“Because, you’re doing the exact same thing now as you did back then. You don’t know how to process things properly so you shut down and shut me out. I know it wasn’t all you. I took you for granted and I’ll never forgive myself for that, but you have to learn how to cope with things like this. What happened between us isn’t going to happen to you again, you just need to open up, be honest with the guy.”

Gabe grit his teeth together, “You done?”

Jack sighed, “Yeah. Just… If you can’t do this, which I know you can, you have to let him go Gabe. You can’t keep all of this bottled up, and you can’t keep taking it out on him, that’s where it will effect the team, and that’s not what either of us want. Just think about it.”

He left the room before Gabe could respond. 

The thought of letting McCree go completely, of pretending he didn’t care every day at training, that nothing happened, scared the shit out of him, Jack was right about that. Jack was right about everything. God he hated him.

He paced the room for half an hour thinking about his next move. If he didn’t deal with this head on, if he didn’t just bite down his pride and think about everything so much, nothing could ever move forward. He was leaving the room before he really knew where he was going.

He scoured the entire base looking for McCree, the Blackwatch bunks, the mess hall, and the med bay. He was deflated, and he almost gave up, until he checked the cliffs, where he saw a lone figure sitting amongst the rocks, a hat on his head, wrapped in a red blanket to shield himself from the wind. Gabe took a deep breath, and moved forward.

“McCree…”

The other man startled, thinking he was alone, and looked at Gabe fleetingly before looking back over the cliffs determinately. “What’a you want?”

“I needed to talk to you…” Gabe tried lamely.

“We ain’t got nothing to talk about, y’made that perfectly clear.”

“Please…” Gabriel couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt this exposed.

McCree tentatively looked over his shoulder, looking just as confused as Gabe felt, “What is it?”  
“It’s just that… I just needed to say…” he was rudely interrupted.

A teeth shattering, ear-splitting noise stopped him in his tracks. Both men swung their heads in the direction of the watchpoint. It was the emergency security alarm.

Suddenly the rocks of the cliffs began to crumble in front of them, as half a dozen metal skeletons peered at them, red eyes glowing menacingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliff hangers are fun. Get it... cliff... hangers. Gabe just can't catch a break can he?
> 
> Follow me at goblin-child.tumblr.com for lots of other overwatch stuff and some quality shitposting.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like age of ultron but gayer.
> 
> Or "The time everyone pitched in to help."

McCree scurried away from the cliffs edge with a shriek, pulling his gun out of his belt and shooting the nearest omnic in the forehead.

“Run!” he screamed at Reyes, pushing the other man away, shooting more omnics as they attempted to claw at them.

The two men ran down the steep rocks, as more and more robots started climbing the cliffs in endless waves, like metal spiders.

Once they’d reach the bottom they began sprinting towards the watchpoint, where they heard a cacophony of yelling and gunshots. 

McCree skidded to a halt taking in the gruesome scene before them. All over the watchpoint, through the tunnels, over the towers, coming out of the warehouses chasing after shouting agents, scores of omnics where tearing the whole place apart. The alarm was still blaring in his ears so he had to shout at a startled Reyes, who looked just as shocked as he felt.

“You need guns! I’ll try and round up as many Blackwatch agents as possible to form a group!”

Reyes swung his eyes towards him and took a few moments before nodding, and running off in the direction of the armoury. That was easy, he hadn’t really expected Reyes to listen to him. Not after the events of the last few days. Shaking his head he returned his thoughts to the task at hand.

He headed towards the Blackwatch barracks, thinking that was probably the best bet in terms of finding a big group of agents fast. On his way he was stopped by multiple groups of omnics, but he was out of amo, he had to pistol whip his way out of corners and dodge the larger groups completely before they could tear at him with their cold, lifeless fingers. He’d seen intelligent, peaceful omnics before. These where more like the zombies he’d seen in old TV shows and movies as a kid.

 

A group of slow trailing omnics where headed towards him, punctuating his thoughts, and blocking the direct route to the Barracks. A ratatat went off to his left and the line of omnics went down. He looked for the source of the gunfire and saw strike commander Morrison, firing like a man possessed with his massive pulse rifle, tactical visor activated.

“Go go go!”

He rounded a corner in the path that ran directly to the bBd running cold.

Strewn across the ground like discarded chunks of meat, Blackwatch agents lie dead on the ground in different forms of dismemberment. The omnics didn’t have guns; they had to rely on the sheer strength of their limbs and hands, not a quick or clean death.

Three Blackwatch agents stood, back against the wall, firing rifles at a small group of surrounding omnics. They where the only agents in sight. McCree looked around frantically, before seeing what he was looking for. The nearest dead agent was clutching a rifle in his dead hands. McCree bent down and pried it from the corpses hands with a wince, before bringing it up, and started shooting at the omnics backs, toppling them over.

“Come on!” the three agents jumped into gear and proceeded to follow McCree, who turned tail and jumped back into the fray deeper into the base.

They stood in formation, backs against each other, mowing down a sizable amount of omnics, before coming across Reinhardt, who was roaring like a beast, “Hammer down!” knocking omnics on their asses and then shattering their metal skulls.

“Reinhardt! What’s happening?” the giant look up and stared at him confused. Jesse realized that technically they’d never actually met.

“It’s the Shimadas! They have unleashed the god programme! Wed thought we had more time than this!” Reinhardt swung his hammer again, omnics flying through the air.

Jesse cursed. The whole mission in Hanamura had been for nothing, Eizo Shimada had already gotten the drop on them. How had he gained control of so many omnics?

McCree and his squad continued, deciding to go inside the base to flush out as many attackers as possible. They entered through the armoury warehouse, so they could collect more weapons.

It was there that they found out that the omnics weren’t incapable of holding weapons. Omnics where rummaging through the storeroom, passing guns from one to another. 

“We have to hold this place down!” McCree shouted, “We can’t let them out with those guns!”  
McCree ducked behind a crate and began shooting, but the omnics had already positioned themselves and opened fire as well. they had a very mechanical way of shooting, steady and without faltering, but a pattern started to emerge, gaps where large amounts of them would have to reload. In these gaps McCree team made their move. 

McCree took the time to look at the crate they where hiding behind. “Flash bang grenades”. McCree didn’t know if omnics could withstand grenades, but he took the chance and began shimmying the crate open with his gun.

Grabbing one of the heavy grenades he hurled it backwards over his head, letting it go off with a deafening crack. Looking around the crate he saw that the flash had disarmed the omnics, blowing some of their circuits. He took the chance to mow down the remaining bots with a shout, breathing heavily once the job was done.

“I think that’s it… We need to bolt the doors, they can’t be allowed to get in here again.” He led the team in shutting the big warehouse door that led to the outside of the base, and then pushed through to the other side of the armoury to the exit that led into the med bay. Once they had moved further into the base, they looked around and moved any heavy object they could find to jam against the armoury door. With any luck both entrances should be effectively sealed.

The med bay seemed to be empty of omnics, which was a blessing. “Search the room, we might be able to find a bag and some medical supplies to carry forward encase somebody gets injured. The other three agents nodded and began ransacking the place, finding a backpack and some medigel that they could use.

There was a thump and a rattle that sounded from one side of the room. Four guns whipped around in unison at the noise, and found a tall locker in the corner. One of the other agents pointed the rifle at the locker, as if to shoot through the metal to eliminate the source of the noise. McCree raised a hand to stop them. It could be a survivor. He moved silently, finger on the trigger, and another rattle came from the locker, followed by a whining noise.

McCree moved his hand slowly toward the locker door, whipping it open.

“Don’t shoot!” shrieked a terrified form from within the locker. McCree blinked. It was Mercy.

“What the hell are you doing in there doc?” he whispered furiously. The young doctor looked horrified, she was holding her healing staff like a club, trembling like a leaf.

“A-Ana said I should hide in here. She thought I might have a better chance of not getting hurt. She said that she could handle any injuries that she saw out in the field.”

McCree’s mind tried to process the information, frowning, “Who’s Ana?”  
“The sniper,” Mercy was still trembling, her voice was raw. McCree took in the doctor for the first time. He’d only ever seen her from across the briefing room. He realised how little Blackwatch had to do with the Overwatch soldiers, he barely knew anything about them.

She couldn’t have been much older than him, he understood her fear. From what he could tell she wasn’t armed with any kind of weapon that could inflict damage. 

“That staff,” he continued, Mercy couldn’t stay here. It was far too risky to leave her here, “It can heal people can’t it?”

“Yes. It also has the ability to boost adrenaline, muscle strength and focus so that agents can be more effective in the field. I created it myself,” she said absentmindedly. That could be useful.

“You need to come with us.”

“W-what?” the doctor looked mortified.

“It’s chaos out there Mercy, you can’t stay in here, those omnics are berserk, and we need every hand we can get to flush them out. We could use you if you joined us, we promise we can protect you if you help us out,” the doctor look horrified at the idea, “It’s your best chance.”

Mercy nodded, stepping out of the locker, “Who are you?”

“The names McCree.” A flash of recognition crossed her face and then vanished. “Where does the other side of the med bay lead?”

Mercy breathed out and walked towards the other side of the room, resolute. “It’s the shared communal area. There’s a kitchen and a small living space, I jammed a hospital bed against the door because the room was swarming with omnics.” McCree was impressed that the young doctor could manage to seal the room off by herself.

“Ok lets move out, you get behind us.”

They moved towards the med bay door, pushing the bed across with a grunt, and entered hell.

The communal area was littered with bodies, blood on every surface. Mercy cried out in horror. “There’s nothing we can do for them now…” McCree swallowed the bile collecting in his throat. On the other side of the room where two rather tall omnics were scanning the area. They suddenly turned, and ran toward the group at a terrifying pace. Mercy shrieked, and McCree raised his gun to shoot, but the omnics where on him to quickly, bowling him over with a swift knock to the guts. McCree keeled over in pain as his team opened fire, shredding the omnics.  
He sat on the floor, wheezing, unable to catch his breath. 

“McCree!” he heard Mercy shout as his vision began to blur, “Healing stream engaged!”

McCree felt a burning sensation in his chest, starting in his heart, before becoming a pleasant, numbing warmth. It spread all through his body all the way to his fingertips, and the pain in his stomach was slowly pulled out of him, clearing his airways.

“Holy shit doc, that’s gotta be some kind of magic, thank you,” he stood up carefully.

“Not magic. Just science,” The doctor giggled, “You are very welcome,” she blushed at the praise.

They moved forward, exiting through a back door that that led to a sloping cliff. They looked down below, omnics nipping above the cliff like metallic waves. There was a flash, and a swoosh, and a row of omnics flew into the air, shattering into metal. Another swoosh, and another row fell down.

A small woman with cropped hair wearing orange goggles seemed to materialise out of nowhere. “The cavalries’ is here!” the woman whooped, shooting off her two pistols into the omnics.

“Tracer!” Mercy shouted.

“You know her?” McCree was watch as the newcomer disappeared and reappeared into thin air, like she was teleporting.

“That is Tracer, she has been visiting our base in Switzerland! She is one of Overwatch’s top agents.

The woman, Tracer, reappeared, “Aw cheers love! Let’s keep it moving! I’ll clear a path for us to get through so we aren’t cornered in, I’m pretty sure the number of omnics is thinning out! If we can draw them away from the base, we can finish them of!”

McCree’s party carefully descended the cliff slope, tracer thrashing through the omnics, leaving a path in her wake, as they moved, McCree and the Blackwatch agents picked off stragglers off to the side, and Mercy covered them from behind. 

Working with Overwatch agent’s that where so unique and wild, McCree was used to the regimented order of Blackwatch, but Mercy and Tracer where different, they worked separately but as one unit, focussing on groups of omnics and tearing them down with their special skills.

They pushed forward, metre-by-metre, before coming across Torbjörn, firing from a makeshift turret that he’d constructed on the battlefield.  
“Die you scraps of metal and bolts!” He roared with the voice of a much larger man. The group sidled up to him and began shooting in unison, mowing down the stragglers of the omnic swarm, they where definitely thinning out.

“Torbjörn what are you doing here?” Tracer cried, “You could be higher up, you could take more down from up there!’’

“I know!,” the dwarf grunted in exhaustion, sweating from the effort of swivelling the heavy turret, “But as I was headed up the hill to place this turret I heard someone cry out ARGH” he fired shot shot shot, “So I came down to investigate and found him!” he gestured over his shoulder at a heap leaning against the wall behind him, “So I set up here to keep them off of him!”

McCree squinted at the shape behind the dwarf, wearing armour, black boots… and a beanie. “GABE!” McCree shrieked, his voice cracking, running to the other mans side and kneeling down. Gabe’s eyes where heavily lidded, his breathing low and haggard, “Mercy come quick!” he looked at the other mans face, usually a beautiful olive colour, now it was a washed out grey, “Torbjörn what happened to him?”

“Not long after the battle started, some of the omnics got into the armoury-“

“I know I flushed them out!”

“Not all of them! One staggered out from behind that tower, raised a gun and hit Reyes right in the stomach.” 

“Oh god..” He looked at Reyes again, tears welling in his eyes. Was this his fault? Had he missed an omnic in the armoury? One could have gotten out and shot a lot of people. It shot Reyes. It shot Gabe, “Mercy use your staff! Fix him!”

The doctor rushed over to them with a furrowed brow, she quickly looked at Gabe’s gunshot wound, “McCree can you turn him so I can see his back?” How was she so calm when Gabe was bleeding so badly?

“W-what? Why can’t you just-“

“McCree!” she snapped, actually snapped at him, and McCree fell silent in shock, “If you want me to fix him I need your help I need to see if the bullet exited or if it is still inside him.”

McCree turned green, looking at Gabe, who was rasping in air, unseeing. He grabbed Reyes lightly by the shoulder and slowly moved him to the side. Gabe suddenly screamed out in agony, and McCree jumped, the pain had woken him up, “I’m so sorry darlin’ I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.

Mercy chanced a glance at him, probably wondering why McCree was behaving so strangely, she didn’t know how he and Gabe where connected. I didn’t care; all he cared about was fixing Gabe, and getting him out of this mess. Torbjörn’s turret went off in a rapid fire, punctuating the urgency of the situation. McCree finished turning Gabe over, to another onslaught of screaming.

Mercy quickly looked at Gabe’s side and back, prodding and poking. When she didn’t feel anything, she clucked her tongue. “I can’t use my healing steam while the bullet is still inside him, it will heal over the bullet and could cause irreparable damage.” McCree couldn’t respond, “I can’t move him either, he will bleed out… We have to dig the bullet out and put pressure on the wound. McCree, you have to help me. Lay him down, and hold his shoulder down, he has to stay still and he won’t want to do that when I’m digging into him so you have to hold him down. McCree!” she snapped again, and McCree focused. How was he supposed to do this without throwing up?

They lowered Gabriel to the ground, a slow process, the big man screaming in agony, driving McCree too distraction, once he lowered the man down, he leaned his knee on the other mans chest, careful not to use too much pressure. He grabbed Gabe’s grimy had between both of his. “Gabe, sweetheart I’m here stay with me darlin’”

“McCree I’m beginning now, you have to hold him down, I can’t stress that enough.”

McCree nodded; gulped, and turned back to the man he loved. They had to save him. Gabe gasped and let out a roar of pain, McCree buckled down, putting all his weight on the bigger man. “Come on baby you can get through this just a little longer, then the doc can get you patched up.”

Another roar of pain and McCree was in tears, holding the mans hand to his lips, willing him to feel better. They weren’t done yet. He knew what Reyes had come to the cliffs to do. They weren’t done.

“Ok I’ve got the bullet, one more pull.”

McCree squeezed the hand as tightly as he could, expecting another scream, but none came except a shocked gasp from Reyes, who gingerly moved his head to look glassy eyed at McCree.

McCree gasped, loosening the grip on the other mans had, but not completely. “Gabe, Gabe your ok. We’re going to patch you up, and everything will be ok I promise. He wasn’t just talking about Gabe’s wounds; he was talking about Gabe and him.

“Mi amor-“ Gabe rasped out, Jesse should have told him to conserve energy but did Gabe just say…

“He sido tan estúpida … tan terco… usted es mi ángel,”Gabe wheezed, the effort of confession had taken a toll. 

He passed out. McCree was in tears again, openly sobbing. He grabbed Gabe's shotgun and stood up, shaking , filled with shock and adrenaline.

“McCree what are you doing??” Mercy screamed, “ we need to get him to medbay, to stem the bleeding.” McCree looked back at the unconscious Reyes, he could have been asleep save for all the blood. He unravelled the serape that he had wrapped around himself at the first cliff. 

“Use this,” he said, broken, throwing the serape in Mercy’s direction, and bolting for the crowd of omnics, “Have Torbjörn carry him, I’m ending this shit!”

“McCree!!” but he was gone.

They had nearly taken Gabe from him, he may not ever have the chance to tell Reyes that he loved him too, not knowing if Gabe would pull through, his twisted angel.

Filled with rage he loaded the shotguns and started shooting directly into the faces of omnics, indiscriminately, blowing holes into heads, legs, bodies, reloading when he was done. 

Wave after wave, bot after bot. the waves came in larger and faster, still he shot, thinking all the while “I love you too, my angel. I love you too, my angel,” the swarm grew closer and closer trapping him. Once he was out of ammo he began using the heavy weapon as a hammer, knocking in head after head, full of adrenaline, he didn’t care, they had nearly killed the man he loved. They had to pay.

“RYU GA WAGA TEKI WO KURAU”

“RYUJIN NO KEN O KUARU”

Two voices cut through the madness, cracking through McCree’s blood lust. “What the…”

A flash of green, and omnics heads where cleanly cut in half, he saw a glimpse of the katana that had caused the damaged, and the strange green energy around it that tore at omnics, sucking them in, leaving no trace.

A giant blue force whipped like some kind of serpent. McCree pressed himself as close to the tower wall as he could to avoid it, did he just see a dragon? No that was crazy. The remaining omnics melted at the heat and the energy, leaving husks behind. 

 

McCree huffed in the new silence, taking in the damage and the cause of it. A young man, with shocking green hair, Genji Shimada, McCree lifted his gun, “What are you doing here??” Did you send those monsters?”

“No! I did not! It was my father I swear. When I heard what he had done I rushed here. I needed to repair what my fathers empire had done.”

“Why should I believe you?” McCree stepped forward, fury in his eyes.

“I saved your life, Jacks too, he was cornered and I got him out.”

McCree lowered his gun.

You sent those green strikes through, the ones that cut through the omnics? I’ve never seen anything like it…”

“It is the power of the dragon.”

McCree sighed, taking off his hat, I didn’t have the energy to ask or care what that meant.

“The blue one too, you did that?”

“No…” Genji said slowly “That was my brother.”

“Bro-“

There was a familiar tapping, where had he heard that before?

A figure jumped from the tower above. A small figure landed. Hair tied in a pigtail atop his head; his weird clothes uncovered half of his chest and one arm. 

McCree lifted his shotgun and fired.

The unknown man didn’t even flinch as the gun clicked, indicating that it contained no amo.

“YOU did this,” McCree wanted this man dead, “You where in Hanamura weren’t you? You killed those men, in the shadows like a coward.”

“I also nearly hit your commanding officer-“

McCree hit the man in the side of the face with the gun, trying to break his jaw. “You do not get to talk to him. Not ever.”

The other man spat blood and looked cooly, steely eyes digging into McCree. “I saved your life.”

“No you didn’t” McCree dismissed, he had put up with a lot today but this was too much. “You and yer daddy dropped the death bots right on our doorstep, You killed a lot of good people.”

“I did not. Sometimes father’s decisions are… Disagreeable. I took offense to his revenge plot so I came to help my br-“

“McCree look out!”

McCree was nocked forward as he was pinned by an unknwn assailant, he realised soon after it was a left over omnic. Scream ripped through the air, confusing McCree . Two arrows from Hanzo’s bow took down the bot, but the Screaming remained, McCree felt dizzy, what was that, he wanted them to shut up, he suddenly felt so tired.

“McCree your arm!”

What about it? He looked down, dazedly at the arm in question. It had been ripped clean off from the elbow down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOO so thats the end of the action segments. I hate them. If you feel like parts of them, or anything in the fic, are a bit rocky, let me know, I'm a writer for the people I want it to be perfect.
> 
> If ur McHanzo shipper please know that I love that ship just as much, McReyes and Mchanzo are my yin and yang but for this ship I felt my portrayal of the Shimadas had to be different,
> 
> Did they fall in love too easily/quickly? Can't really change that but it would be good to know.
> 
> All character work/fluff and beautifulness from here guys. Might take a while cuz reallyy get into fluffy stuff.
> 
> Also a couple days I wrote the trashiest piece of filth to ever exist so go read "Bucking Bronco" on my page if u a freak lol.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mushy ending for your entertainment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so first, I am SO sorry this took like 3 months?? I got distracted by school exams and then I had writers block the last two thousand words took my like a month to right.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading! I really loved writing this one. I don't know about future works but if you'd like to suggest oneshots for this couple in my inbox for goblin-child.tumblr.com that could be cool?
> 
> I hope it was worth the wait!

“Gabriel, I told you to lie down, you’ll end up hurting yourself again!”

“And I told you, for the thousandth time, I’m not leaving until he wakes up!”

“That could take a long time Gabriel, I had to put him in an induced coma. He was in shock, and he would have bled out if I hadn’t done so immediately. The omnic didn’t leave a clean cut.”

Gabriel swallowed away the dry lump that had been sitting in his throat for the last four days. For the first two he was bed bound, the bullet inside him had scared and his stiches kept popping. His sleep was fitful, and full of visions. The omnic grabbing McCree by the elbow, twisting until the bone cracked, and the muscles tore apart. He couldn’t shut his eyes for a second without hearing McCree’s agonised screams.

He’d spent the last two days in vigil, forcing himself to sit by McCree’s bed until he felt like he was going to faint, batting Angela away. He looked now at McCree’s stump. It wasn’t clean like you would see on TV. It was jagged, stitches covering every side, weeping blood. He started to feel sick again.

“Gabe! You’re turning grey. Get back in bed right now or I’m getting Reinheardt to forcibly remove you!” 

Gabe stood up woozily, he knew she’d do it too; she’d was growing cockier now that she was more confident as a physician. And Reinhardt liked to tackle people. He sighed rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and pulled himself out of his chair with a grunt.

He had his hands on the doorknob before he heard a groan.

“S-stubborn old goat,” McCree let out a cough and a wheeze, the machines around the bed coming alive and beeping. Gabe crumbled to his knees at the bedside, so he was level with McCree’s face.

“Jesse, Jesse! Oh my god, are you ok. How are you feeling?”

“Gabriel give him some space, I need to check his vitals. McCree can you hear me? How many fingers am I holding up?”

McCree let out a wet, gurgling chuckle that sent him into a coughing spasm and Gabe was grabbing his hand before he knew what he was doing. “I’m feeling a touch rare doc. You are holding up three pretty little digits.”

Mercy sighed as the moved around the room, applying a pressure cuff to his good arm, flashing a torch in his eyes to check his pupils. “Can you remember what happened before you blacked out?”

“Ehm. I have to admit the details are a bit foggy. There were some omnics, a lot of omnics, all over the base. We kept shooting them down and they just kept coming,” his eyes grew cloudy and he frowned. “Gabe got shot! Oh my god Gabe are you okay?”

Gabriel’s heart breaks, here this man, this beautiful, weird man, worrying about Gabe before himself, before his literal dismemberment. He brought McCree’s hand to his mouth lightly in reassurance. “I’m fine Jesse,” Jesse let go of a breath, visibly relieved. Gabe’s heart swelled again. He guessed that’s what came with being with a man who wore his heart and soul on his sleave.

Gabe remembered he wasn’t technically with McCree. They never reconciled before the battle, and there was a huge possibility Jesse could reject him again. But he was going to stick around until he got better at least.

“Do you remember anything else Jesse?” her eyes lingered on their intertwined hands before looking the turning her attention to the cowboy. She was trying to gauge how much he knew about his accident, so she wouldn’t freak him out by telling him everything at once. Jesse hadn’t seemed to notice his missing limb yet.

“The archer… the one from Hanamura, he showed up to help. There were… dragons? That can’t be right,” Gabe knew for a fact that it was right, but McCree couldn’t process that right now.

“And Gabe was shouting… Oh my god…” Gabe squeezed the other mans hand in his.

“My arm…” McCree looked dazedly as the joint where his lower arm had been ripped off. 

“Oh my god my arm, my arm!” McCree moved to get up but Gabe put a forceful yet gently hand on his chest to stabilise him.

“The damage was irreparable McCree,” Mercy said quietly, like she was trying to calm down a rabid animal, “It had to be done or you would have lost a lot more than the arm,”

“What could be worse? How am I supposed to operate with one arm, how am I supposed to shoot!”

“The strides in mechanical prosthetics have skyrocketed in the last few years, it will be as if you haven’t lost anything, and you will learn to compensate.”

“L-Like I haven’t lost anything? I lost my fucking arm!”

“Jesse!” Gabe barked, “Mercy is trying her best to help you. We know this is awful, and you have a right to be upset and angry and scared, but you can’t take it out on her. You can yell at me if it makes you feel any better, but I’m gonna stick by you every step of the way, if you’ll let me…” He knew Jesse couldn’t make any rational decisions about them right now, and he might have been a little selfish, but he needed Jesse to know how he felt.

McCree looked at Gabe like he was a lunatic, which stung, before realisation seemed to cross over Jesse’s face. Gabe’s throat dried up again.

Mercy was fiddling with Jesse’s IV bag, “We can give you some privacy if you would like, so you can rest.” 

Gabriel felt McCree squeeze his hand tightly and squeezed back. “Uh, can Reyes stay? You know, to make sure I don’t flat line or nothin’…” He asked, the picture of innocence.

Mercy sighed, exasperated, looking knowingly at the two, Gabe ducked his head, trying not to look at her.

“Fine, Gabriel you come and get me if anything goes wrong, don’t exhaust him too much he needs rest.”

McCree snickered, and Reyes frowned at him. He was in love with an eight year old.

The room was silent for a long time, barring the sounds of beeping and the dripping of the IV.

McCree laid on his pillow, staring at the ceiling, and Gabe stared into space, willing one of them to say something, until finally, “Why are you here Reyes?” Jesse asked.

Gabe was too chickenshit to break right away, “I, uh, I’m your commanding officer McCree, I just wanted to make sure you where okay…” 

“Right,” McCree seemed to deflate, “It’s just you never seemed to care before. Seemed like you would have been happy if the bot ripped my dang head off.”

Gabe actually gasped, audibly, had he really been that much of a monster?

“McCree- Jesse, I am so sorry I shut you out after…”

“After we slept together,” McCree was very blunt, “and you did more than shut me out, you treated me like shit on a horse shoe. You tortured me. You hated me.”

Gabe let go of McCree’s hand for the first time and shuffled closer to the bed. “Jesse, I’m so sorry. When we where… together, I didn’t know how to process it all. You’d saved me after I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life. You pulled me out of the water. You pulled me out of who I was at that moment, the me who just wanted to give up, you wouldn’t let me.

‘So when we had sex I felt like I owed you, for saving me, and that’s not right. I took advantage, I knew you had feelings for me and I still let myself do it. I didn’t regret it Jesse, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he paused to see if McCree wanted to add anything, he didn’t. “I thought maybe I was transferring my feelings, saviour complex and all that. But I realised I really do have feelings for you. That’s what I came to the cliffs to tell you. That I have feelings for you, and that I’m sorry.’

‘That’s a really shitty thing you did Gabe. All I wanted was to look after you, make sure you were okay. I had… I have feelings for you but I wasn’t trying to stalk you or nothing so when we had sex, I was happy, but I knew you where probably not looking for anything serious. But then you went and treated me like shit. How do I trust you won’t wig out on me again? I’m not your punching bag.”

“McCree, I promise, from now on, I’ll be honest with you, if you’ll let me. I’ll look after you… If you’ll have me. And I’ll be with you every step while you get your arm fixed.”

Jesse studied his commander’s face for a few agonising moments. Gabe was about to get up and leave in tears, but then, “Okay. We can do this. I want to do this.”

Gabe huffed out a sigh of relief, “Me too.” He grinned in relief, careful not to not show too much enthusiasm and freak McCree out. Now I should let you get some rest. Mercy won’t want me agitating you too much.” He moved to stand but Jesse grabbed his hand and pulled him forward until he was nearly sitting on the bed.

“Please stay. I don’t want to spend the night alone in here.” 

Gabe sighed and looked into McCree’s warm, sincere eyes, before caving. He shucked off his boots and his beanie, “Move over lover boy,” McCree did so, grinning ear-to-ear, careful not to jostle his arm.

Gabe lay next to him, pushing his arm so he could pull McCree towards him in a hug without messing with his arm. He had to admit, it felt really good, and when he heard McCree sigh contentedly, his heart swelled.

“If I fall asleep and wake up, will you still be here?” McCree sounded a little kid.

“Yeah, I’ll be here.” I always will, Gabe thought.

When Mercy came in to check McCree’s vitals an hour later she sighed at the two men squeezed into the tiny bed. She grabbed an extra blanket and draped it over them, switching the lights off.

 

“Ow ow ow doc god damn it doc cut it out!!”

“Ah quit being such a baby mi amore do you want to have to have someone help you every time you go to the bathroom, or do you want two working hands?”

“Well that depends who’s helping me doesn’t it Gabey baby- AGH,” McCree flinched as Mercy continued to work at the stump bellow his elbow. She was slowly inserting metal rods that she would later attach his new mechanical arm to. She and Torbjörn had spent weeks creating a suitable prostethic, while McCree recovering and adjusting after his injury. Gabe had been more than happy to help him, and would continue to do so until McCree had recovered, but he looked forward to them moving past it. The cowboy had been enjoying the attention a bit too much.

Reyes grabbed McCree’s hand as he let out another shout. Gabe flinched, reminded of his partners scream as the omnic attacked him, he didn’t want Jesse to get hurt like that ever again.

“This is the last one McCree I promise, and then we can begin attaching the prosthetic.”

They spent a few slow hours attaching the metal arm, in which Gabe helped Mercy place it, before the vigorous process attaching nerves so that McCree could feel and move it. When theywere done, McCree slumped back on the examination table, sweaty and tired, but ecstatic that he had two working hands again. He moved it around, the wrist and fingers wriggling experimentally. Gabe looked on curiously as the mechanics clicked quietly.

“Now I don’t want you to strain yourself too much, until you have time to adjust, and have full control of the prosthetic.” Mercy warned after finishing her final inspection.

“Don’t worry about me doc I’ll be as docile as a neutered house cat, promise.” Mercy sighed and looked at Gabe expectantly.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” Gabe helped McCree sit up and get off the bed. 

They began the journey back to Gabe’s room, where McCree was currently staying in. Any of the other overwatch members who looked at him funny for it or made a snide comment got a silent death threat from Gabe, who practically hadn’t left Jesse’s side since the fight. The younger man was too happy, being able to finally be with Gabe, to notice.

“How does it feel?” Gabe asked as McCree tottered over to the bed and sat down.

The younger man gave him a look, “I tell you Gabe I feel like a new man, like I could take on an army of omnics. We should celebrate,” he continued before Gabe chastised him about the omnic remark.

“How? I don’t have any alcohol, and it’s too late to get anyone else together-“ McCree was giving him a significant look, a cartoonish attempt at bedroom eyes that was somewhat ruined the sweat covering his face.

“You can’t be serious.” Gabe had to admit, he wanted sex even more than McCree did after being in such close proximity with each other for so long. He’d been too afraid of hurting McCree, now he was worried the other mans arm would malfunction. “Mercy literally just said you shouldn’t strain yourself…”

“I’ll just lay and you can do the work then,” McCree flopped on the bed as if to illustrate.

“McCree no,” his resolve was wavering however, if McCree felt up to it who was he to deny him?

McCree stood up, eyes changing, turning serious, sultry, Gabe swallowed. The younger man stalked forward, until he was right up in Gabes space, the older man was overwhelmed with the scent of sweat and the horrible aftershave McCree wore that oddly turned him on, and McCree pressed his lips lightly over Gabe’s, barely a whisper of a touch, but Gabriel felt it like a shot of whisky down in one, burning an warming him from the inside out. McCree carefully wrapped his flesh hand around his waste and touched the small of his back, and he disintegrated.

Gabe was usually dominant during sex, he never felt like he could be vulnerable, or would want to be soft around another person, but tonight McCree was in the drivers seat, Gabe wasn’t sure what McCree’s limits where so he let himself be led for the first time.

McCree pivoted so that he could push Gabe towards the bed, every touch unbearably tender and restrained, as the tension and heat in Gabe’s muscles intensified. His legs gave way, and he fell onto the bed, the cowboy straddled him, leaning on his good arm as he lavished Gabe with kisses.

“Woah woah woah” Gabe huffed out as soon as he got the use of his mouth back, flushed down to kiss neck with embarrassment at the attention.

McCree looked at the other man thoughtfully, bringing up his prosthetic and running it through Gabe’s mussed up hair, it was cold but Gabe didn’t dislike how it felt, “I just love you is all. I wanted to show you just how much…”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me Jesse, I love you too, I wouldn’t have ruined my back laying in that hospital bed for a week if I didn’t,” he grinned, he was still a little embarrassed, and it must have shown.”

“You know it’s ok to let someone else take care of you, be sweet to you. I know you aren’t the most openly affectionate person,” Jesse stifled his laughter at the last part, and Gabe had to laugh too, “but accepting a little TLC doesn’t make you weak.”

“TLC?” Gabe covered his face with his hand.

“Tender Loving Cowboy,” McCree crooned. Gabe groaned loudly and made a mock effort to push McCree away before pulling him down into another kiss. 

McCree was right though. Gabe had never truly let anyone take care of him, or break through his shell. Even when he was with Jack he was reluctant to share his feelings, his fear, his insecurities.

“I want to open up, I want to be able to give you everything you deserve. “

“What about what you deserve Gabe?” the sincerity in the younger mans voice, and the look in his eye took Gabe’s breath away. No one had ever looked at him like that.

McCree leaned in, Gabe was prepared for another kiss but instead McCree kissed him on the cheek. He then carefully lifted his new prosthetic, and placed his palm against Gabe’s face, more tenderly than Gabe thought would be possible for considering McCree had only had it for a few hours.

“I can still feel you. I mean… My hand, I can still feel you. Your warm.” McCree looked at his hand in wonder. Running it down Gabs face, neck until it was over Gabe’s heart, “I can still feel it,” he said, looking at Gabriel like he was the sun.

He swooped in for another kiss, urgent, a little bit sloppy, but Gabe helped him control it, deepen it. McCree leaned over until he was fully straddling his partner, and pulled Gabe’s shirt off with a quick tug. He began lavishing the older man with kisses, worshipping every part of him, taking his time, which made Gabe itch with impatience, used to getting straight to the point. Remembering what McCree had said earlier, about softening, thinking about what he actually wanted, he slowed his mind and realised he actually enjoyed the attention, it was just something he would have never asked for before.

His breath began to hitch as McCree unbuttoned his pants, slipping his hand down and palming Gabe’s dick. 

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” the cowboy breathed against Gabe’s skin, giving Gabe goosebumps, his eyes clouding over with affection. He let go, and let McCree take control.

Jesse quickly removed himself so he could quickly shimmy out of his clothes, which he could now do on his own, with the new arm. Gabe was a bit sad that he wouldn’t be able to coddle McCree and look after him anymore but he would prefer their current situation any day.

Prowling back on top McCree moved Reyes around into a better position on the bed and began taking down his underwear properly.

The cowboy moved to get his hand on Gabe’s dick and a spark ignited in the older mans brain, distracting him, “Jesse, your arm…” McCree might have mastered his robo arm somewhat but was it up to a task so technically challenging?

“Don’t worry darlin’, I don’t need it.” The cowboy bent down, opening his mouth, and licking a long line up Reyes’ already firm length, making Gabe jolt. McCree chuckled and he got to work, taking in Gabe’s whole length and holding it in his mouth, slowly sucking in his cheeks and applying pressure.  
“Oh my god” Gabe groaned, covering his eyes with his arm, trying not to melt down completely. 

“Hold on their sweetheart we don’t want you finishing before I show you how good it can get.” Agonisingly slow McCree began to bob up and down on Gabe’s length, and when Gabe looked down, he saw McCree looking up at him, want in his eyes, with an eagerness to please. He made a conscious effort not to buck or shift too much, because he didn’t want to ruin the view.

“Ah shit…” Gabe hissed, shifting in his spot, he was about to cum, and it had only been a few minutes. McCree sensed the change and pulled his mouth off with an obscene pop. 

“Okay, time to kick it up a notch. Wait here.”

“Wh- Asshole I was almost there!” Gabe sat up indignantly.

“Do you want our first time together as a couple to finish without me actually getting inside you?”

McCree leapt to the bathroom, to grab supplies, and Gabe sat up to stand, muscle memory from being on the top all the time.

“Hey hey hey what are you doing?” McCree asked walking back into the room, tearing a condom wrapper with his teeth.”

“I uh, I’m used to-“

“I know, and as much as I enjoyed that last time, and the many times in the future,” there was a wink, “but I am the captain tonight so uh, lay down, face up… hop to it!” the mock authority in McCree’s voice helped put Gabe at ease some, but he was slow to take orders.

“Uh…” McCree started shifting foot to foot, “you know, I mean if you want. I don’t want to pressure you, if you’re uncomfortable. We can do whatever you want.”

Gabe exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “No, I want this. I want you,” he said, nodding. “Come on, tender loving cocksucker,” he grinned wickedly, an invitation and a dare.

 

Like a switch was flipped, McCree pounced, jumped on top off him and giving him a bruising kiss, deepening, moving his tongue along his lower lip. One of them moaned but Gabe would be hard pressed to tell anyone who.

They touched foreheads for a moment to take a breath. “Are you ready?” McCree asked, send a warmth through Gabe’s stomach. He nodded.

McCree popped the cap on a small bottle, and Gabe hissed as McCree pressed a lubed finger against his hole, rubbing around, and then slowly inserting one finger, making sure Gabe was comfortable bore adding another.

“Fuck, ah!” Gabe turned his head and bit his lip.

“Fuck is right, all these weeks without so much as a poke, you’re so tight. I’m going to make you feel amazing.” This elicited another debased moan.

“Shut up and do it, just do it!” Gabe was all but crying at this point.

“Fine, fine,” McCree chuckled. With a last twist of his finger, McCree pulled his hand out, and lining up his dick, before slowly entering. 

“You okay?” McCree asked.

Gabe grunted in response, too far gone to appreciate how considerate McCree was being, though he’d thank him later for it. “Just… Move or something.”

McCree nodded and began a steady rhythm, adjusting himself according to Gabe’s reactions, picking up speed when he knew he’d found the right angle. 

Reyes needed more, he didn’t know what he needed exactly until McCree gave it to him, taking one of Gabriel’s trunk like thighs and hoisting it over his shoulder, so he could get closer, and start a searing kiss. Gabe’s brain began to short circuit, it was a level of intimacy he had never experienced before, and McCree had no problems giving it.

“I love you,” the cowboy puffed, “I love you so much Gabriel.” The older man knew McCree well enough by now to know he was being sincere, and that it wasn’t just a rush of adrenaline. He started jerking Gabe with his free hand, and soon enough, Gabe was cumming, McCree arriving not long after, collapsing on the older mans chest.

Gabe’s vision blurred and his heartbeat thundered in his ears. He felt totally blissed out, having what was probably the best sex of his life, but there was a stirring feeling in his stomach, like crashing waves against a cliff top. He felt overwhelmed physically and mentally, it started to ache.

 

“Gabe, what’s wrong?” McCree asked, leaning on his arms, and that’s when Gabe noticed, he’d started crying. “Was the sex that bad? McCree asked good humouredly, but there was obvious concern in his voice, wondering if he actually had done something wrong.

Gabriel’s chest heaved as the tears fell, he’d never cried in his entire adult life, what was happening?

Looking at McCree, who looked like a wounded puppy who still wanted to please its asshole master, only intensified his emotions. That’s when he figured it out. It took him a few attempts before he could voice the issue.

“I love you too…” Gabe sniffled, pulling McCree into a hug, the younger man, settling in, nuzzling into Gabe’s side, still confused. “It’s just been a wild ride. I’ve never been with anyone like you, so open, and giving… I’m just shitty at handling emotions… Thank you.” He managed to settle himself down some.

“It’s ok darlin’, I understand. I haven’t had the warmest of upbringings you know, running from home, joining a gang, getting stabbed,” McCree was being cheeky but Reyes just laughed. “I haven’t been able to form the strongest relationships either. But we got each other now.”

Gabe hummed an agreement, scooping MccCree up so the younger man as flush against Gabriel’s side, like a teddy bear.

“How’s your arm feeling?” Gabe asked, hiding his face in the pillow to distract from the last of his tears.

“Super dooper trooper!” McCree huffed from under Gabe’s arm. “We should visit the cliffs tomorrow.”

“The cliffs? Why?”

“I’ve barely been outside in months, it’ll be romantic. We’ll take a picnic basket.”

“How about a cooler of beers?”

“Deal.”

They murmured like this for a while, enjoying the rumble and noise of each other’s voices. Gabe felt more at ease than he ever had.

\------

 

It was bright the next morning as they traversed the incline to the cliffs overlooking the Gibraltar sea line, but the early morning winds where biting, and they were both wrapped up in a blanket, facing the ocean.

“They really did a number on the watchpoint huh?” McCree asked, staring over the silver and blue roofs, exteriors still covered with bullet holes and claw marks from the omnics. 

“We’re not secure here. No one will be Gabe to leave on missions until this is all fixed.” Gabe assessed the damage.

“S’pose that’s okay, good to know y’all won’t get called away while I’m still on the mend,” McCree said, all drama.

“Pff, you brat. You know perfectly well you’re just fine. You climbed all the way up here. You nearly lifted off of the bed last night.”

“Damn right I did,” Reyes could feel McCree’s eyebrows wagging in his direction without even having to look.

“How would you feel,” Gabe started cautiously, “If I told you there was an opening in Overwatch? Would you join?,” McCree looked at him like he was insane, but he hurried on, “You’re skilled beyond your years as a soldier, you and that gun are a lethal combination, but it’s also more than that. I can feel it. You want to do some good in the world, you should be saving the world, not running after pitiful drugs busts and illegal mech mechanics.”

“Are you trying to get me off of your squad so I don’t distract you with my ruggedness, can’t mix work with pleasure I guess,” it sounded like McCree was interested.

“No jackass,” he bumped their shoulders affectionately, “I just think you can do more. I don’t want you to get stuck like I did, the shady backdoor dears, and the gore. You won’t have to do any of it,”

“Is this about how we met?” Gabe flinched, realising that their first encounter, and the subsequent weeks after would probably always haunt him. He’d had a couple of dreams since of his own face, carved gnarly and evil, torturing McCree. He’d wake up in a sweat, and have to distance himself from the younger man, ashamed and frightened of himself.

“I’ll never forgive myself. For you, or any of the others before. It’s an awful feeling, using people, getting so dark, and dethatching yourself from your own humanity to get the job done.”

McCree grabbed Gabe’s hand with his metal one, startling Gabe out of his self-pity for a moment. He held on, and felt at ease immediately, tracing patterns on the metal, hoping Jesse could feel it.

“It’s ok Gabe, it’s your job, and I was being a little shit.”

“So you deserved to get stabbed? Was I doing a good job when I was breaking your nose??” voice had elevated and he was looking at McCree a little manically, “this job has ruined me.

‘You know the night when you pulled me out of the water, I never told you what I was out here for. I was drunk off my ass, like I always get when I feel like scum. I came out here to… I was trying to… I couldn’t be that person anymore.”

A long, heavy moment hung in the air, Gabe had to look over to make sure he hadn’t run away he was being so quiet, but he was still there. He was looking at Gabe with such intensity, and warmth, but Gabe felt like he was submerged in the water all over again.  
“I’m so sorry. There’s literally nothing I can say to make what you’re going through less awful. But I can say that it can get better. It can take some time, but there are people here who care about you,” Gabe scoffed, “It’s true all the agents care and I care, if you told them they would help.” Gabe looked at him dubiously but he felt a bit better, “and I’m here.” The cowboy leaned in for a kiss, holding Gabe’s face sweetly.

“For as long as you’ll have me I’ll be here.”

They sat like that for a long time, until the sun was high in the sky, and they’d drank all the beers in their cooler. With McCree’s arms wrapped around him, and the younger mans head resting on his shoulder, Gabe, for the first time, was hopeful.


End file.
